Don't Wait for Me
by TimeSpace64
Summary: Remember 'the Success Story' If not, go watch it! If so, did you ever wonder what would have happened if it ended differently? Well search no further! This is the alternate reality where the Monkees lose one valuable member of their band. Will they stay a band? Will they meet him again? Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Monkees nor the characters from the show.
1. Chapter 1- The Success Story

Chapter 1-The Success Story

 **Author's Notes: This chapter references The Success Story,** ** _Find the Monkees, Monkees on the Line, as well as Case of the Missing Monkee_** **. I don't own the Monkees, nor any of the characters mentioned in this story. I only own the original characters that make cameos in this story. Welcome my friends to the alternate universe where the Airport Charade fails!**

 **October 18, 1966**

The rain was coming down hard now. Peter could only think about how appropriate the weather was. He sat on the couch that lined the windows in the alcove, watching it fall harder and harder. In his ears he could hear the shuffle of Mike's footsteps and the constant tapping Micky's fingers had on the table. None of them dared speak. No one had spoken since the three of them had gotten up that morning. Suddenly, Mike broke the silence.

"How appropriate…" He grumbled allowed.

"What?" Micky asked. The other two were now watching Mike, wondering why he broke the silence.

"This rain," he responded, grabbing the green wool hat from his head. "I bet England's getting this same darn weather too, but it's very stereotypical of them to always have rain."

"Mike," Peter said, standing.

"Don't 'Mike' me Peter. Aren't you upset too?" Mike threw his hat at the floor, enraged. "What are we going to do? His grandfather took one of our bandmates, our friend, our _brother_ away from us. You're going on like it's no big deal."

"Mike," Peter tried again. "Of course I'm upset." Peter tried to hold back tears from Mike's statement as he continued. "But," He couldn't think of words to help. They were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't seem to get them any farther.

"I think what Peter's trying to say is that we can't mourn the rest of our lives. We'll be alright." Micky intervened. Peter gave Micky a shy smile in appreciation.

"Well, then," Mike took in a deep breath. "I guess it's time to discuss the band, huh?" The three stared at one another for a minute, each of them trying to decide whether or not they should appear in a business-like meeting room in suits and ties or just go sit at the table. With the absence of their fourth member, they all went to go sit at the table. For a moment they all stared at the empty chair, as though staring at it would bring Davy Jones back. After a minute of no prevail, Micky got up and stuffed the chair into the closet. Returning, Mike took in another deep breath before proceeding.

"Right, let's get down to business. The band."

No one responded for a moment. After the awkward silence overwhelmed them all. Peter was the first to speak. "Mike, are we really the Monkees anymore?"

The Micky looked at Peter quizzically. "What does that mean?"

Mike's face remained somber, fully understanding Peter's question. "He means, are we the Monkees without Davy?" That was the first time anyone had uttered the name since the unsuccessful airport charade.

Micky straighten up. "Well, I would assume so."

"Would the Beatles still be the Beatles without John Lennon?" Mike asked. Peter shook his head, whereas Micky sighed.

"Your point?" Micky crossed his arms, not willing to accept what his roommates were suggesting. "Because, what's in a name?"

Mike leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Don't go quoting Shakespeare now, Mick."

"Micky," Peter said. "You make a good point, but will our music be the same without him? Yes, he did play the maracas and tambourine, but his voice, his voice is glued to the band. Ask someone about the Monkees, what will be the first song that comes out of their mouth?"

"Never heard of 'em." Micky deadpanned, now leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Which song is that?" Peter asked.

"It's not." Mike said. "He's stating that people don't know who we are, so does it matter?" Micky nodded in agreement. Peter didn't respond, and Micky didn't add anything, so Mike continued. "The way I see it, we have two choices. Continue pursuing music without him, or, in memory of him, give up the band." They made eye contact with each other, then they nodded. They knew the answer.

 **January 9, 1967**

"Again, let me thank you for this banquet. As a humble man of science, all I can say is, war is war, and peace is peace, and science is, uh, science." Professor Schnitzler proclaimed as he finished his speech. Everyone, employees included, applauded his speech. As soon as people began to get up in order to greet the scientist, Mike began refilling the buffet table.

Wearing his white uniform, Mike could only daydream about the possibility of him performing another role at his banquet, primarily the role of a musician. He glanced up at the stage, where four Swedish violinists stood, preparing to play again. One of the violinists hopped off the bandstand to greet the scientist. When another man guided Professor Schnitzler away, the violinist stared at the paper in his hand. He walked up to the bandstand and showed it to the members of his quartet. They all shook their heads and the violinist tossed the paper onto the floor, grabbing his instrument and warming up.

A sudden anger built up inside Mike as he quickly dashed out from behind the table and grabbing the paper. _I'll deliver this to the police station._ He thought, stuffing it in his shirt. Mike continued to clear dishes, refill the buffet table, and do all the other mediocre jobs a waiter does.

"Nice work Peter." Drehdal extolled, patting the young man on the telephone.

"Uh huh, uh huh, yep. Goodbye." Peter said, jotting down the last bits of the message before sticking it on a nail. "Thanks Drehdal."

"Do you think you can handle yourself while I go out on vacation?" She asked sincerely.

"I don't know. What time will your replacement come in?" Peter asked. He was tired. Usually he and Drehdal traded shifts, but with her going to Jamaica for vacation, he didn't know he could work the answering service for twenty-four hours.

"Aw, he should be coming by at the usual time Peter, but don't you worry! This will all go swimmingly!" She emphasized 'don't,' 'you,' and 'worry' by poking Peter. She flopped a gigantic hat upon her head, grabbed her beach bag and surfboard and left the answering service building.

Peter sighed as another phone rang. "Urgent answering service." he said.

"I had to speak to someone! I just can't go on, I'm so terribly alone."

"Oh, hey Ellen." Peter said. "Practicing your lines again?"

"Peter, you can't get me out of character! Now what are you so down about?" The girl on the other end demanded.

"Just down, as all. Drehdal's going to vacation and you know how trusting her replacements are."

"Oh, I'm sorry Peter."

"You want to keep practicing your lines?"

"Please?"

"Go ahead."

"I had to speak to someone!" Ellen proclaimed. Peter sat the phone on the table, letting her ramble on. For some reason Peter felt terrible today, as if he was missing out on something. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the feeling, but his mind suddenly ran towards one thought. _What would I be doing right now if Davy was still here_?

 **January 23, 1967**

"Micky!" Hubbell Benson yelled from his office. In a second the lanky employee rushed in, slightly out of breath. "Where's that wretched tape recorder Irene rented?"

"I'll go get it Mr. Benson." Micky panted, running out again, returning with a tape recorder.

"Right, now go get the first band."

"Yes, Mr. Benson." Micky said, running out again.

Soon the Jolly Green Giants entered Mr. Benson's office, all smiling, hoping to nail the invited audition. As they did so, Micky sat in the lobby, listening to the mindless clamor of the other bands practicing. He sat on the corner of Irene's desk, watching the other bands enviously.

"That could be us." Micky muttered to himself, his chest suddenly swelling with emotion.

"What was that?" Irene asked, looking up from her magazine.

"I was in a band." Micky said a little louder. "That could be us."

"Well why aren't you in the band now?" Irene asked, closing the magazine.

"Because one of our members had to go back home to England. We didn't see the value of continuing if he wasn't there."

"Oh." Irene said, opening her magazine again. She didn't ask any more questions. She wasn't a great fan of Micky, but their only mutual feature was that they both genuinely hated how Benson treated them. She could only sympathize the poor boy, for he was in such a terrible position now, he might have been better off with his band.


	2. Chapter 2- Take A Giant Step

Chapter 2- Take a Giant Step

 **November 15, 1967**

"Urgent answering service." Peter said as he answered the phone.

"Hello? I have a message for a Mr. Henry Corden." The voice on the other end said. It sounded older and had a familiar accent. "I'm heading out for the plane and I'll be in Malibu at around 6 o'clock."

"Yes 'ir." Peter said, scribbling down the message. "Who is the message from sir?"

"Jones. Benjamin Jones." the man said. "Thanks." he hung up. Peter looked down at the message, but then stuck it on one of the nails. As he continued to receive messages, he contemplated the voice of Benjamin Jones. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't name where he heard it before. When Henry Corden called later on, Peter relayed the message.

At 6 o'clock pm Drehdal's replacement, Helene, arrived. She took over and Peter waited patiently outside for Mike and Micky to pick him up. They earned more money now, since they each had a different job, but it was just enough to pay rent and have enough food so they didn't starve. After waiting for two hours, Micky finally came by in the MonkeeMobile. Peter graciously got in.

"What took you so long?" Peter asked as they drove away.

"Mike's workin' late. There's this real big banquet and they needed as many employees working as possible, or so I'm told." Micky responded.

"Oh." Peter said.

"From what Mike told me, it's for this big hot-shot music producer. Musicians and managers from all over the world are coming to this thing. What was the name?"

"Henry Corden?" Peter asked.

"Yeah! That's it. Wait, how did you know?"

"Some guy left him a message through the answering service. He sounded awfully familiar. I wonder who he was."

"Did you get a name?"

"Of course, it was Benjamin Jones, if I remember right. He said that he was arriving at the airport at six."

"Oh boy! You know what'd be cool Pete?"

"What?"

"If he's related to Davy!"

"Hey, that would be cool!" Peter beamed.

"He must be going to that banquet thing! Let's go Pete!" Micky exclaimed, turning the car into a parking lot so they could turn around.

"Mr. Corden! Nice to meet you, this is my grandson David, the one I was telling you about." Benjamin Jones said upon seeing Henry Corden in the banquet hall. A small ensemble was playing on the bandstand while men and women mingled amongst themselves.

"Ah, David Jones, nice to meet you." Corden held out a hand. David took the hand and shook it lightly. "I hear you're one good singer."

"Thanks." David replied quietly.

Corden looked down at his watch. "Well, I should probably get this show on the road." he laughed.

"Americans." David's grandfather sighed. "Think they can slip humor into any situation. Let's sit down."

David ran a hand through his freshly cut hair, ruining the neatly parted bangs. He sat down in between his grandfather and a large woman in a pink frock. While fixing his bangs, he noticed a thin blonde sitting across from him. When their eyes met, it was as if fireworks exploded. David smiled at the girl. Her bright smile was revealed to the Englishman as Corden began talking. David ignored all he had to say, for in front of him was surely the most beautiful, elegant, magnificent girl he had ever laid eyes on.

 _ **CRASH**_

Everyone looked up to find one of the waiters lying on the floor behind the blonde, covered in soup. He sat up, blushing. After a moment of awkward silence, Corden laughed, then continued on with his speech, excusing the mess with a witty joke. David and the blonde simultaneously stood to help the waiter. David ran around the table and began picking up bowls.

"Are you alright mister?" the blonde asked the waiter.

"Yeah." the waiter said, his eyes focused on the soaked black hair that hung in front of his eyes.

David grabbed the last of the bowls and offered them to the waiter. The waiter looked at David, his eyes growing wide. His mouth hung open slightly, words failing to leave it. "What is it?" David asked.

The waiter ran a hand through his sticky hair. "Davy!" Was all he managed to say. David stared at the waiter, confused. He tried hard to recognize the face. He couldn't recall knowing anyone with such long hair or sideburns as this man.

"Michael!" An angry voice yelled. A man, presumably the waiter's boss, rushed into the room. "Get up and clean up this mess!"

"Yes 'ir." The waiter blushed, scrambling to his feet, rushing out of the room.

"Michael?" David mouthed. "Michael!" Davy said louder this time, running out of the room.

"Davy!" Mr. Jones cried, standing.

"Mike!" Davy yelled, somehow lost in the halls. "Mike? Mike…" _Man, what's Mike doing in a place like this?_ Davy thought to himself. He passed by a mirror and stopped. Davy admired his reflection. In his mind he tried to imagine himself a year prior, before he left California. His hair was longer, much longer. His past self wore a light blue jacket and red swim trunks. Davy looked back and forth between the two men in the mirror. His own reflection wore a grey suit with a blue tie. A sudden feeling of disappointment overcame the young man. How could he have allowed this to happen? How could he have allowed himself to change from a Monkee to a pawn of the business world?

"Davy!" Davy's grandfather's voice broke through the imaginary barrier. Davy looked to his grandfather, somewhat solemn. "Don't go running off like that, young man. What's the matter with you?"

"I," What should he say? That one of his friends, one that his grandfather disapproved of, as well as ripped him away from, was working in this very building and that he needed to talk to him, even if it was for a minute? No, he couldn't. There was no way. He grandfather told him about the performance they gave at the airport and he strongly expressed how idiotic it was. "I wanted to make sure that waiter was alright."

"I'm sure he's fine David. Now come on." His grandfather said, grabbing Davy's arm and dragging him back into the banquet hall.

Micky and Peter walked up towards the front doors of the Royal Airs Hotel. "Oh boy Pete, it would be great if Davy was back, don't you think?" Peter nodded happily. They entered the building, and walked up to the receptionist. "Hello miss, my comrade and I are looking for a Mr. Michael Nesmith. He's a waiter here."

The receptionist, who seemed particularly grumpy this evening, rolled her eyes and went into a back office to call the kitchen. She came back to the desk, informing the boys that Mike was busy and couldn't come to see them. Micky sighed. "Come on Pete, let's go."

"Wait." Peter said, holding Micky to the place where he stood.

"What?"

Peter dragged the drummer over to one of the many hallways, listening to an argument taking place.

"Mr. Jones, you need to control that boy." one voice scolded.

"I will try harder, Mr. Corden. I don't know what has gotten into him. I promise you, he's usually a gentleman." The other voice, thick with a British accent, responded.

"You better! I can't have my sponsor's grandson making a fool of my record company. If you need to, lock him in a room! You're not making a very good impression on my clients, Ben."

"I will try my best Mr. Corden. Actually, I'll do that now. I'll go fetch him. He won't ruin your banquet again."

"Good. It's bad enough the staff here is clumsy as all hell. I don't need anyone else humiliating me."

"Oh no!" Micky whispered. "We've got to help him!"

"Mr. Jones?" Peter asked, confused.

"No, the grandson!" Micky hissed.

"Why?"

"Because, presumably, the kid is young, so he might know Davy!"

"It's not like it is Davy, Mick." Peter shrugged.

"But still, it's better to know something of Davy then nothing at all." Micky looked around the corner. "They're leaving, let's follow."

The two maneuvered their way through the halls, following the two men back to the banquet hall. They hid in a corner and waited for Mr. Jones to reemerge from the hall with his grandson. From the other end, Mike was carrying a tray of pitchers to the banquet. He caught sight of his roommates and hissed, "What are you two doing here?"

"Peter had delivered a message to that guy holding the banquet from a Jones. We wanted to see if he was related to Davy." Micky whispered.

"You guys'll get me fired! Go home!" Mike hissed, leaving them for the banquet.

"What's wrong with him?" Micky asked. Peter shrugged his shoulders.


	3. Chapter 3- If I Knew

Chapter 3- If I Knew

 **Author's Notes: This chapter references** ** _Royal Flush_** **and** ** _Case of the Missing Monkee._** **Enjoy! By the way, still do not own the Monkees... sadly.**

Davy stared at Mike as the lanky Texan re-entered the banquet with a tray of drinks. He couldn't wrap the idea around his head. _That is_ _Mike? What is he doing here?_ He seemed so insecure, so weak. It was hard for him to believe that this is really Mike. Davy coughed, then called for the waiter. Mike froze. Reluctantly, he walked over to Davy.

Davy coughed again, to appear business-like. He then whispered, "Is that you?"

"What do you mean, sir?" Mike asked, a little too loud.

"Is that you, Mike?" Davy asked again.

Mike gave a small chuckle. "Sorry Tiny. 'Fraid it is. Sorry you have to see me like this." The Texan tried to avoid eye contact.

"What do you mean?" Davy asked, but before he got an answer, Mike walked back out, presumably to refill the buffet table. Davy sighed, plopping his head into his hand.

"David!" Ben Jones said, grabbing the boy by the shoulders. "Come with me." Without argument, Davy followed.

They walked out into the hall and to an elevator. "Where are we going Grandfather?" Davy asked.

"You're going back to the hotel room. Mr. Corden was not impressed by your little display from earlier."

"You mean when M- the waiter fell?" Davy asked, confused.

"Yes."

"All I did was follow him. What's the matter with that?"

His grandfather shook his head. "I don't know, but he doesn't want it happening again."

Davy didn't respond. He hated to admit it, but Americans were crackers. He didn't understand their definition of business. What had he done wrong? Davy could feel his face burning. He was angry. Angry at Mike, angry at his grandfather, and angry at Mr. Corden. His anger for Corden was obvious. He was angry at his grandfather because he decided to obey Corden like a slave, even though Davy had not done anything wrong. He was angry at Mike for acting so inferior to him. They were equals, were they not? Why was Mike even working there anyway? As a waiter of all things!

When the elevator doors opened, a tall, buff man stood in their way. Davy looked up at the face, yet another familiar face that Davy couldn't recognize. The first and only words spoken before action took place was, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

After that, well, David Jones was picked up by the man and carried away, his grandfather yelling after them. The man quickened his pace and before long he had disappeared from Ben Jones's view. Many twists and turns later, Davy found himself being dragged into a hotel room. He was thrown onto a bed, his head aching from the force.

"Ah, Mr. Jones." An uncanny voice said. Davy sat up on the bed to find himself face to face with the ex-archduke of Harmonica, Otto.

Davy's eyes narrowed. "You! I thought I recognized your henchmen from somewhere!"

"Of course. I heard about your little detour back from England while I was in prison. I escaped just so I could make sure you suffered for what you caused."

"What I caused? If I had let you go on with your antics, the country of Harmonica would be devastated! I'm sure Bettina is doing a fine job!"

Davy found a knife at his neck. "Shush now." The archduke hissed, quickly pocketing the knife. "The three of us will be out of the country by morning, with a little help from Dr. Marcovich, of course."

"Who?"

"I!" Another voice chimed in. From out of the bathroom came another man, one Davy knew he didn't recognize. "With my machine, the boy will not remember a thing! It worked extremely well on Professor Schnitzler when transporting him out of the country."

"Ah, Dr. Marcovich. Is the machine ready?"

"Of course. I would like Sigmon to help me bring it out though." he admitted.

"Why'd you build it in the bathroom?" Davy asked.

"Because what kind of reveal would that be? This is a hotel, not a stage." Dr. Marcovich responded, disappearing into the bathroom with Sigmon. They came out with a large gun on wheels. They rolled it over to to the bed Davy was lying on. With his eyes growing wide, Davy jumped off the bed, only to be stopped by Sigmon.

Dr. Marchovich straightened his tie. "Now there are three settings. Mild, which erases one's memory for about two weeks. There's extreme, which erases one's memory entirely, and then there is death, which simply kills the victim." An evil grin spread like wildfire across his face.

"Set it to mild, Doctor. He needs to be able to recognize my dear niece when he dies." Otto said as Marchovich began fiddling around with the machine.

"You'll never get away with this!" Davy cried.

The machine hummed and rattled. A red light began surfacing on its end until Davy realized he was losing consciousness. His whole life flashed before his eyes as he found his world going dark.

When Mike re-entered the hall, he noticed right away that Davy was missing. However, so was his grandfather. Mike gently set down the food he had brought in, quickly retreating out into the hall, where he ran into Ben Jones himself.

They both landed on the floor. Mr. Jones was the first to stand. "Boy! Watch where you're... wait a minute! You're the waiter who had fallen, were you not?" Mr. Jones held out a hand to help the Texan up.

"Afraid I was, sir. Your grandson was awfully kind to help." Mike said.

Mr. Jones squinted his eyes at the waiter, studying his face."Wait a minute, you're a Monkee!" Mr. Jones cried. "How could I not see it before! No wonder Davy chased you."

Mike blushed. "Sorry sir, but I gave that title up when you took Davy away." He said a little more confidently, standing his ground.

"There he is!" Micky's voice yelled. Both men turned to see Micky and Peter running up to them.

"I told you two to go home!" Mike ordered.

"What are you men doing here?" Mr. Jones asked.

"Well," Micky began, but Mike slapped him to shut him up.

"I work here. My friends here were just coming to pick me up. Guys, I told you I was working late. I'll call when I'm done." Mike said, pushing the others away. Peter slipped from Mike's grasp and ran back to Mr. Jones.

"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" Peter asked before Mike came back to pull him away.

Mr. Jones dismissed the Monkee business and entered the banquet hall to find someone of authority to declare that his grandson was kidnapped.

"Mike, what's with you tonight?" Micky asked as Mike dragged them out to the MonkeeMobile.

"Mike, who was that man? Was that Mr. Jones?" Peter asked.

"Mike-"

"Will you two be quiet!" Mike hissed. He let go of his roommates, who looked at him with concern.

"What's the matter Mike?" Peter asked.

Mike sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've only embarrassed myself one too many times tonight guys. I'm a little uptight. I'm sorry. So much has been goin' on. I don't need to be worrying about you guys to make the situation worse. Now git." Mike turned to face the hotel, but when noticing three suspicious characters leaving the building, he decided to drag Micky and Peter with him behind the MonkeeMobile to watch.

"Hey, that's Otto, isn't it?" Micky whispered.

"I think it is." Mike responded.

"What are they doing?" Peter whispered.

The three men walked within ear shot. One voice was talking to another. "Aha! Doctor, you've done it! I'm impressed. Jones, into the car with you."

"Yes sir." a monotone British voice responded.

"Davy!" Mike hissed.

"Davy?" Peter and Micky asked.

Mike jumped up from behind the MonkeeMobile. "Hey buddy! You get away from him!" Mike charged at the men, Micky and Peter reluctantly following.

"Mike!"

However, the archduke had a sly smile etched across his fat face. "Jones, sick him."

"Yes sir." the monotone voice responded. Davy climbed out of the car and began to run towards Mike, pummeling him to the ground. Micky and Peter reached the scene, trying to pull Davy off of Mike. It was no use. Davy's fists flew, blood sprinkling the parking lot. Soon he resorted to strangling the poor man in an attempt to kill him.

"Peter! Go get help!" Micky yelled, failing to pry the Englishman off the shattering Texan's frame.

Peter nodded and ran back to the hotel.

"Oh dear, Jones, in the car, now!" Dr. Marcovich yelled, hopping into the passenger seat while Otto was in the driver's.

Davy suddenly stopped strangling the Texan and rushed into the car.

"Oh no you don't!" Micky yelled, quickly pulling a needle from seemingly nowhere and popping one of the rear tires before they could take off. Micky quickly jumped onto the back of the car, holding on for dear life as it drove off.

Mike was left in the dark parking lot, gasping for air. Peter returned with Mr. Jones, Mike's boss, a few security guards, as well as what seemed to be all the guests from the banquet. Peter kneeled down, wrapping an arm around his friend. "Are you alright Mike?"

Mike nodded quickly, taking in deep, heavy breaths. "I never knew he had it in him. He's got a strong grip. What's gotten into him?"

"Who?" Mr. Jones asked.

"Davy." Mike tried to respond, his voice cracking. "Mick jumped on the car before it took off. They took Davy." Chaos began as people rushed to call the police, or to run to the safety of their hotel rooms.

"Get this boy a doctor!" Mr. Jones demanded, assisting Peter to get Mike up on his feet. They opened the nearest door on the MonkeeMobile and sat him down inside.

After what seemed like an eternity, policemen were scattered about the hotel, as well as doctors. One was checking up on Mike while Peter and Mr. Jones conversed. Mr. Jones sighed. "I can't believe your friend would do such a foolish thing."

"Which one?" Peter asked.

"Well, both of them I guess." Mr. Jones admitted.

"They just want to help Davy. It may have been a year since we've seen him, but that doesn't mean we've forgotten him. We gave up our careers because we didn't have Davy to share the experience with. That's why we tried to keep Davy from leaving. We couldn't imagine ourselves without him. We're not the Monkees without Davy." Peter said.

"My, I didn't realize," Mr. Jones said.

"It's okay. You were just looking out for him." Peter gave him one of his genuine smiles.

"Mr. Jones?"

"Hm?"

"Would it, would it be alright, if, after this is over, that Davy stayed?" Peter asked childishly.

"I'll think about it." Mr. Jones said, giving Peter a small smile. Peter returned the smile and then ran off to find Mike. A policeman came up to Mr. Jones to ask about Davy. This was going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4- Last Train to Clarksville

Chapter 4- Last Train to Clarksville

Otto and Marcovich drove down the busy streets of Malibu, laughing. They were both unobservant of the man hanging on for dear life on the back of their getaway car. Davy sat in the back seat, looking mindlessly out of the car.

"So what's the plan, your highness?" Marcovich asked.

"I have a large suitcase in the back. Once we reach the airport, David will get into the suitcase and we'll get on the plane. It's foolproof. I have not left any problem unattended." With that statement, however, the car slowly began to vibrate. Frustrated, Otto pulled into the nearest parking lot, which happened to be the parking lot to the train station. Marcovich got out of the car and looked at the wheels. The rear tire on the passenger's side was flat as a pancake.

"It's a flat." Marcovich reported.

Otto cursed under his breath, getting out of the car. "It was that Monkee!" He got out and Marcovich joined him on the driver's side, walking along the front of the car. "Jones, get out. Doctor, I think we'll have to take the train."

"Your highness, a train will not get us to Harmonica. That's all the way across the Atlantic." Marcovich pointed out.

"Sir..." Davy said, calling out to Otto and Marcovich.

Both men didn't pay attention to the Brit, but instead continued discussing their plot.

"The way I see it, Doctor, We head out to the East by train, then catch a plane out there. It'll give us a chance to cover our tracks." Otto explained.

Suddenly the two foreign men heard a loud bang, both turning around to find Davy holding Micky Dolenz's head down on the trunk of the car, as well as holding one of Micky's arms behind his back.

"Jones!" Otto laughed, clapping his hands. "Well done!" Otto walked over to Micky, who sat sneering at the archduke. "Looks like our saboteur decided to ride along. Move him out of the way Jones. I have a rope in the back we can tie him up with."

"You're not going to get away with this!" Micky yelled, struggling to free himself from Davy's grasp.

"Oh, don't you worry, I won't, not In this country anyway. Doctor, go get us two tickets and a reserved cargo car." Otto laughed. Marcovich ran off as Otto grabbed the rope from the trunk. "When I'm done with you, well, as we say in our country, "Eritis sicut mortui piscem ex aqua."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Micky asked.

"You will be as dead as a fish out of water." Otto snickered. "Bring him along Jones. I see the good Doctor coming by." Marcovich raced back up to Otto, informing him about the arrangements that were made. Smiling his devilish smile, Otto lead Davy and a bounded Micky towards the train station.

"Are you okay Mike?" Peter asked, sitting next to his roommate on the edge of the ambulance. Mike was wrapped up in a security blanket, holding a bag of ice to his eye.

"As good as I can be. I can't see out of my right eye though. They told me I have a black eye and will have some bruises for a while, but besides that I'll be okay. How's Davy's granddad taking this?"

"He's a bit on edge He's with the police who are interrogating Otto's henchman right now. Hey Mike?"

"Hm?"

"Should we go find them?"

Mike didn't respond for a moment. He only stared off into the distance, his brow creased with concentration. "Yeah, I think so. They can't have gone far, Micky popped the tire." Mike stood, taking off the blanket and walking over to the MonkeeMobile. Peter followed. To Peter's surprise, Mike placed himself in the passenger's seat.

"What are you doing Mike?"

"Peter, I can't see out of the one eye. Drive, man."

"Drive where?"

"That way." Mike pointed right. "We'll watch the side of the road for their car."

Peter soon found himself driving slowly down the road, looking into the darkness for the car that took Micky and Davy away.

"Peter, turn here." Mike said as they approached the train station. "I think I see the car."

"How can you tell?"

"No one's allowed to park like that at this station." Mike said. Peter noticed what he meant. A black car was parked in the middle of the lot, taking up at least three parking spaces, indicating the driver didn't bother to pull in.

Peter pulled in and parked the car. He and Mike got out to find confirmation of the car's flat tire. "Why would they be here?" Peter wondered aloud.

"They are taking a train somewhere. Come on, let's go ask." Mike and Peter walked into the station, straight to one of the assistant desks.

Behind the desk was an older gentleman with a bushy, grey mustache. At the sight of the two men he welcomed them cheerfully. Mike put on his best business persona and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but what was the last train to leave the station?"

"The last train was headed for Clarksville, Tennessee. I'm sorry sir, but there will be no more trains this evening."

"That's alright. Thank you." Mike nodded and pulled Peter away towards the MonkeeMobile. "Come on Pete, ready for a road trip?"

"What?"

"You wanna get Micky and Davy back, right?" Peter nodded his head. "Well then, we're off to Clarksville Tennessee."


	5. Chapter 5- I Wanna Be Free

Chapter 5- I Wanna Be Free

 **Author's Note: Again, do not own the Monkees, nor any of their songs... sadly.**

"There you two go. Have fun. Jones, we will be back later to feed you. Don't let him escape." Otto said, finishing the ropes that held Davy and Micky back-to-back. They were bound together with ropes, not just around their chests, but around their hands and feet as well.

"Why are you tying him up too? I thought he was your henchman. Plus, you told him to keep me from escaping. If he's tied up too, how can he stop me from escaping?" Micky questioned. "Ow! Not so tight!"

"Shut up." Otto responded. "I'm tying him up in case Dr. Marchovich's memory wipe fades before we reach Harmonica. He's tied to you because if you find a way to get free, he will be free too, hence stopping you from escaping."

Micky's face twisted to a confused look, then faced you _(yes you, the reader)_ and said, "Isn't that dumb?" He shook himself from your short conversation and turned back to Otto. "Wouldn't it be easier on him to let him free, so he can, you know, stop me easier?"

"Easier for you maybe. Now shut up." Otto said, slapping Micky.

"You'll never get away with this!" Micky shouted one final time before Otto locked the door to the cargo car.

An awkward silence filled the car. Micky sat with his thoughts, hoping there was something he could do to wake Davy from his amnesia. _I wish that we were in a similar situation beforehand to help me figure this out. How am I going to get Davy to remember me? Scare him?_ Micky wiggled in his binds to see how mobile he could be. _Not gonna happen._ After what seemed like an eternity and Micky's mind continuously getting stuck, he came up with an idea. _This better work. It might sound bad, but maybe that won't be a bad thing._

Micky cleared his throat. "Take the last train to Clarksville and I'll meet you at the station. You can be there by four-thirty, 'cause I've made your reservation. Don't be slow, oh no, no, no! Oh no, no, no!" Micky sang loudly.

"What are you doing?" Davy asked irritably. "That sounds terrible!"

"'Cause I'm leaving in the morning, and I must see you again. We'll have one more night together, till the morning takes my train and I must go. Oh no, no, no! Oh no, no, no! And I don't know if I'm ever coming home."

"Hey! You!" Davy yelled. However, Micky continued to sing, ignoring Davy's pleas for silence. After 'Last Train to Clarksville' he sang 'She,' 'Take a Giant Step,' 'I'm a Believer,' 'Mary, Mary,' and '[I'm Not Your] Steppin' Stone.' He even started singing songs where he was not lead vocals, such as 'Papa Gene's Blues' and 'Auntie Grizelda.' Just for Davy and his memories, he even sang 'Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow)' and 'Hold on Girl.'

"Will you shut up? You're terrible!" Davy yelled.

"Never!" Micky said in a sing-song tone in between 'Mary, Mary' and 'She.'

"Please? You're givin' me a headache!" Davy whined.

"Not until you have your memory back mate!" Micky sang in a fake British accent. He had to admit, this was pretty fun, even though his stomach was growling and his throat was dry.

 ** _Hours later..._**

"I wanna be free, like the bluebirds flying by me." Micky gasped for air. He was extremely hungry, but he felt he needed to keep singing, for Davy. "Like the waves out on the blue sea."

Suddenly, a bright light appeared before them, revealing Dr. Marchovich with a tray of food and a glass of water. "Food, Jones."

"If your love has to tie me," Micky gasped. Marchovich cocked an eyebrow, asking Davy what he was doing.

"Annoying me." Davy stated flatly.

Marchovich shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I was considering getting him food as well, but the archduke will not want him singing. People have been asking questions about the singing." Marchovich bent down to reach eye-level with the singing man and whispered. "I'll just let them know it's a radio and the battery is dying." An evil grin passed his face before he got up again to feed Davy. After Davy was fed Marchovich left with the empty tray.

Hours past. Micky began to develop a headache to harmonize with the hunger and thirst. However, he tried his best to keep singing. Soon he was singing only the choruses to songs that popped into his head, trying to make sure they were Monkees' songs, at least. Eventually he closed his eyes and sang, because trying to look at anything made his head hurt and everything became dizzy.

"Hey hey we're the Monkees, and people say we monkee around. But we're too… too… too busy singing, to put anybody down!"

"Girl, I don't wanna find… find that I'm a little bit wrong, you're a little bit right. I said.. girl, you know that it's true... It's a little bit me, and it's a little bit you."

"Take the last train to Clarksville…"

"I'm a believer… I couldn't… I couldn't leave her if I tried."

"All the king's horses… and all the king's… men… couldn't put my… my… my broken heart back together… again… Davy! Come on Davy, man!" Micky pleaded. "Come back man!"

After Micky didn't receive an answer, he sighed, and continued to try and sing. "I'm gonna buy me a dog." Micky felt his whole body tip and spin. He couldn't tell if he was being moved or if it was his imagination, but it made him feel sick to his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the pain would go away. "I'm gonna buy me… a dog… 'cause… 'cause… I'm gonna buy me a dog…"

"Micky?" A soft, frightened English accent asked. One Micky had not heard in a long time. However, Micky only picked up the accent, but nothing it said. "Micky? Micky?" Micky felt like he was falling into nowhere. He began to fall, but was being held by something. _The ropes, I forgot._

"I'm gonna… gonna buy me… me a dog…"

"'Cause I need a friend now."

 _I didn't say that._ Micky thought. _It might be my brain filling in the words. Ow, this hurts… everything hurts… oh my head…_

"Micky? Micky, speak to me! It's Davy, Mick! It's Davy!" Davy cried. He felt the body behind him limping, no longer able to hold itself upright. Tears were threatening to blur Davy's vision. How could he have let this happen? Davy struggled against the binds, hoping to somehow free him and his friend. "Micky, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Come on Mick, speak to me, man! I'm gonna buy me a dog, 'cause I need a friend now. I'm gonna buy me a dog, my girl, my girl don't love me no how!"

Suddenly Davy could feel light shine on his back. He quickly sobered. _Don't let them see that you've got your memory back Davy. You need to buy more time._

Otto entered the room this time, however his hands were empty. At the sight of Micky's pain, he laughed. That laugh sent shivers down Davy's spine. Davy took a deep breath, his heart pounding as Otto's footsteps vibrated along the car's floor. "Having fun there?" Davy felt the body behind him straighten, which he could only assume meant that Otto was forcing Micky upright. "We heard you singing. What a waste of time. Jones?"

"Yes sir?" Davy said in a monotone voice.

"You don't mind sharing a room with a dead body, do you?" Otto laughed, proceeding to leave. "I'll bring you food in about an hour."

"Alright sir." Davy said, again in a monotone voice. However, once he heard the car door shut, he struggled to free himself again. _Micky, you're not going to die,_ Davy thought to himself. "Micky? Hey Mick, are you awake?" Davy asked.

Something glistening in a corner made Davy's heart skip a beat. It was a discarded pocket knife, already opened. _What luck! Now how do I get over there without hurting Micky?_ Davy scooted towards the knife, feeling the whole body scoot with him. "I'm sorry Micky." Davy said as he continued to scoot towards freedom. As Davy moved, he could hear Micky groan in pain. Davy's heart was threatening to leap out of his throat at this point, but he couldn't let down now. He continued to call for Micky as they made their way towards the knife, trying to keep him conscious.

When they reached the corner, Davy pulled on Micky's arms in order to try and reach the knife. Micky cried out in pain, causing shivers to crawl up his spine. "I'm sorry Micky!" Davy cried before yanking on the arms again, successfully grabbing the knife this time. With a little bit of handy work, Davy was able to free himself as well as remove the binds on Micky. Davy ran over to the door, attempting to pick it open with the knife. Micky continued to moan. "Hold on Micky. Keep with me." Davy pleaded. "Got it!" The car door swung open to reveal the open gap in between them and the next car, which happened to be full of people. _I can't go that way, Otto and Dr… whatever his name is, are over there. I guess we'll jump. How have they been getting food to me this way?_ Davy dismissed his last question and ran back to Micky, trying to pick him up. Davy let out a groan. "Geeze Mick…" he mutter before trudging over to the door. "Hold on tight man, this might hurt…"


	6. Chapter 6- What Am I Doin' Hanging Round

Chapter 6- What Am I Doin' Hanging Round?

 **Author's Notes: I don't own any of the Monkees' songs, the Monkees, or the characters from the show. HOWEVER, I do own the original characters that you will meet in this story.**

Pain shot through Davy's body like lightning. After he registered the fact that he was lying down, he left himself there till the pain became a dull roar. He focused on the sound of the train running away. Soon the train was only a memory and all that was left was the sound of chirping birds and the present wind. Davy opened his eyes to see a bright, blue sky with clouds floating by. He sat up slowly. He was free. Free from Otto's hands and free from his grandfather. Davy was truly free.

His suit was a mess. Besides the fact that he was swimming in his own sweat, his tie was uneven, his jacket torn, and his dirty blue button-down now hung loosely on his frame. Standing a little too quickly, Davy tore off the jacket, wrapping it around his waist. He loosened the tie, unbuttoned a _couple_ buttons on his shirt  (sorry ladies), and ran his hands through his hair. Now it was time to address Micky.

Micky was unconscious, Davy had no doubt about that. His face was red, but looked relaxed. His straight, brown hair began to curl. He was wearing a simple red button-down shirt that had one or two buttons either missing or unbuttoned (again, sorry). _How could I have let this happen?_ Davy thought, walking over to him. He laid his head against the chest of the man. _He's still breathing. Now I just need to find someone who can help him before we both starve._ Davy tried lifting the man up, but then accidentally let him drop to the ground again. He groaned. Why did he have to be so weak? Davy felt a bit of fabric brush up against his arm. Finding his tie swinging back and forth, Davy grabbed the tie and began to finagle with it till he made a harness out of it. He tied Micky to his person and was soon able to carry the man across the vast nothingness of wherever they were.

Davy crossed a field of tall grass, traveling towards the direction the train had come from. Every ten minutes or so he'd stop, talk to Micky as though he could hear him, then continue on, singing and talking to himself.

It must have been a couple hours after they had jumped the train when Davy stopped again. "Hey Mick?" He waited for a response, but was only rewarded the sound of his breathing. "I promise, I _will_ find help for you. We can't be too far from a town. Maybe a little music would help soothe my worries." And with that statement, Davy continued his trek into unknown territory. He continued to tell himself that they didn't have much farther to go, more for his sake than any. He was promptly becoming tired, hungry, not to mention thirsty. His worries grew when the sun began to set. The more he worried, the louder he sang, only to comfort himself. "I wanna be free, like the bluebirds, flying by me. Like the waves out on the blue sea. If your love has to tie me, don't try me. Say goodbye!

The sky was a nice dark red now, and Davy could barely see. He had somehow wandered from the railroad and found himself in an empty meadow, or from what he could tell at least. He lowered Micky to the ground. "I'm really sorry Mick. I can't go on." Davy choked.

"Where you goin'?" An unfamiliar voice asked. Startled, Davy jumped, turning around to find a little girl, who couldn't be no older than ten, watching him intently.

"Where'd you come from?" Davy asked.

"Which answer would you like mister?" The little girl asked.

"What?"

"I mean, recently I came from my house. However, my mommy told me that I originally came from her tummy."

Davy was truly dumbfounded. His mind _must_ be playing tricks on him. "What's your name?"

"Eva. What's yours mister?" She looked up at Davy with her innocent brown eyes, obviously clueless.

"Uh, Davy. How come you're away from home?"

"My daddy and I are out for a walk."

"In the dark?"

"Of course."

"Where is your father?"

The little girl shrugged her shoulders. "He should be coming, I think. We like walking in the dark. It's spooky." Eva giggled. "Look, there he is! Daddy! Daddy!"

Davy turned around to see a dark figure and a small light running towards them. When the figure reached them, it was a tall, white man, styling a flannel jacket and bushy, brown mustache. "Eva! What are you doing?"

"Daddy, this is Davy." Eva beamed.

"Sir, my friend here is ill. He need's food and water desperately. Please help me!" Davy pleaded, kneeling down to Micky's head.

Eva's father shined the flashlight at Micky's chest. Nodding, he handed the flashlight to his daughter. "Eva, our walk will have to wait till tomorrow. Don't run off, but lead the way home. I'll grab the legs." Eva's father and Davy picked up Micky and slowly carried him back to the house that Davy had not seen in the darkness. It was a small cottage about a mile from where Davy had stopped. Eva's father had to continue to yell for his daughter to slow down or stop.

When they finally reached the house, they put Micky in a spare bedroom, and Eva's mother got water for Micky. Davy helped feed Micky while Eva's mother continued to bring water and soup. Eva's father called a doctor from the nearest town to come check up on Micky. This all seemed very rushed for Davy, for he couldn't retain any other information besides that. Next thing he knew he was kicked out of the spare bedroom and sitting at the kitchen table with Eva's parents, eating soup.

"By the way, I'm Maria." Eva's mother said.

"Mike." Eva's father stated, nodding his head.

"That's the name of one of our friends." Davy stated. "Can't imagine what he's doing now." He shivered at the thought of his last encounter with the Texan. Davy remembered everything that happened when he was under Otto's control.

The couple sat and listened to Davy's stories of the band, his friends, and how much he cared for them. Then he came to telling the couple of the day his grandfather came to America. Davy somehow made it through the tale without crying. He then explained to them how he ended up in the field with Micky. When his story was done, his soup coincidentally was too.

"Would you mind sleeping on the couch? Our house is a little small, sadly." Maria said, yawning.

"I don't mind at all. I'm awfully grateful." Davy replied.

"Once your friend there is better, I'll drive the two of you back to California, if you want." Mike said.

"Wait, um, California? You mean I'm not in California?"

"You're in Nevada. The nearest town is an itty-bitty village called Benson. That's where Dr. Hecker is from." Mike said. "You're not too far from the state though, kid. Benson is in the little tip at the bottom of the state."

"Oh." Davy said.

"Don't worry Davy." Maria said. "You can stay as long as you need to. I'm sure Micky is going to be just fine in a couple days."

As if on queue, Dr. Hecker, an elder of about fifty years, walked out of the spare room with his medical supplies. He, like Mike, had a large bushy mustache. "Your friend in there will be fine in a couple weeks."

"What?" Davy asked.

"From what you told me, he hasn't had food in a while, approximately a day or two. You'll need to make sure he get's a lot of food and water in his system, and a lot of rest as well. His body started to think it was dying." Dr. Hecker put a bowler hat on top of his head.

"Thank you Dr. Hecker." Maria said, leading him to the door.

"You're very welcome Mrs. Hart. Good night."

When the two had left the room, Davy sighed. Mike put a hand on his shoulder. "Here, let me lead you to the living room. I'll get you some blankets."

"Thanks."


	7. Chapter 7- Words

Chapter 7- Words

Micky's thought his brain was trying to escape his skull. There was this horrible banging in his head that he couldn't shake. He let out a loud groan. He couldn't even acknowledge his surroundings thanks to the migraine he had. _Why does my head hurt so much?_ He didn't even bother moving his head. He left his eyes shut, only focusing on the swirling darkness.

"Micky?" An unfamiliar female voice asked. Hearing anything made his head hurt ten times worse. He let out another groan, followed by a 'shh.'

"Sorry." The voice said, quieter. "What hurts?"

"My head." Micky stated flatly.

"Stay there. I'll be right back." Micky heard footsteps disappear. Then, after what seemed like years, heard the steps come back. To his surprise, something cold touched his forehead. Then something even colder, and wet, touched his forehead. "You're running a bit of a fever too. This should help." Micky grabbed ahold of the cold, wet thing on his forehead. It turned out to be a washcloth.

"Thanks." He muttered.

"You've been sleeping for three days now. We were getting worried." The voice stated quietly.

"Hm?" Micky cocked an eyebrow and slowly opened one eye, but quickly closed it. The light hurt his head too much. After a moment to compose himself, Micky asked, "What happened?"

"Well, according to Davy, he saved your life. Some bad people were trying to starve you to death."

"Davy?" Micky asked. His head throbbed. He didn't want to think right now, but as usual, curiosity got the better of him.

"Your friend, Davy. He says you two were in a band together."

"Davy?" Micky asked again, even more confused. Last Micky recalled, Davy was in England, wasn't he? Micky grabbed his head and let out a even louder groan.

"I should let you sleep." The voice apologized. "At least we know you are capable of waking up. Sweet dreams." The footsteps returned and Micky heard a door shut. Micky suddenly found himself being sucked into a void of unconsciousness. The pain subsided, and he fell asleep.

"Good news Davy." Maria said later that evening as Davy, Mike, and Eva walked through the front door. "Micky woke up today. He wasn't up for long, he must have had a headache. I don't think he recalls the incident."

"Oh. He's not gonna like hearing about it then." Davy sighed, setting down a bag of groceries on the kitchen table.

"So how was grocery shopping, Eva?" Maria asked.

"It was super-duper fun Mommy! Davy sang to us on our way to and from the store! Did you know he could sing? I didn't know he could sing. Davy, you're such a good singer!" The blonde giggled.

Over the past few days Davy learned a lot about the Hart family. Eva loved answering questions, whether they were hers to answer or not. Being only a child, she had the innocence of a puppy. Mike reminded Davy a lot of Michael Nesmith. He was a strong role model for his daughter. He was very protective, took on the role of the leader, but always had time to be as childish as his little 6-year-old. Turned out he was a mechanic in Benson at the local auto-repair shop. Maria was a quiet, fair woman. She was a nurse in Benson as well, so she knew Dr. Hecker very well. There couldn't be a single sin on that woman's head. She was too good.

"You should sing for Mommy, Davy!" Eva begged. "Sing, Davy, sing! Plllllleeeeeeeaaaaaaassssssseeeee!" Eva dropped to her knees, shaking her hands that had formed a fist.

"Alright, alright. If you insist." Davy smiled.

"Let's go into the living room." Mike said. "Davy didn't seem to have enough room in the car to dance either."

"You dance too?" Maria laughed.

"It kind of goes with the music, you know." Davy said, blushing. So the four of them went into the living room and Davy began to sing, 'Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow).' He and Eva danced as Mike and Maria watched from the couch.

"Mary, oh what a sweet girl. Lips like strawberry pie. Sandra, long hair and pigtails, can't make up my mind! I see, all kinds of sorrow, wish I only loved one. Look out, here comes tomorrow oh how I wish tomorrow would never come." As Davy sang the chorus, he clapped. Soon Maria and Mike joined in on keeping the beat, Davy took on the full-time job of dancing around with the little girl. He repeated the chorus twice before kneeling down to Eva's height to sing the next verse. "Told them both that I loved them. Said it, and it was true, but I can't have both of them, don't know what to do." This dance routine continued. Davy noticed that Mike and Maria eventually starting singing the chorus with him. When the song ended, everyone laughed.

"Another, another!" Eva laughed.

"I don't think so." Maria said. "You, young lady, have school in the morning. It's nearly your bedtime."

"I think I'm gonna check in on Mick." Davy said. However, he was stopped by little Eva.

"Good night Davy!" Eva wrapped herself around his legs. Looking up at the man, she smiled an innocent, sweet smile. "Will you sing tomorrow?"

"Of course Eva." Davy said, patting the girl's back. "And maybe, if Micky's feeling up to it, you might be able to hear him sing too."

"He sings too?" Eva gasped.

Davy laughed. "Of course. I told you Eva, I'm in a band."

"I thought only one person sings in a band."

"Well in _my_ band we all sing. Now go to bed."

Eva hugged Davy's legs even harder. "Okay. Night, night Davy."

"Good night Eva." Eva released her grip and followed her mother down a hallway to where the master bedroom and Eva's room were.

Davy walked down to the spare bedroom, where he slowly opened the door, creeping inside, placing himself beside the bed. "Hey Micky?" He whispered. He was welcomed by the soft snoring of his friend. Davy gave a small smirk. "Well, at least you're breathing."

Davy stood, heading back towards the door. To his surprise, he heard a low groan from behind him. "Not the cake," a familiar voice mumbled. "Peter, Peter, no!" The voice started to panic. Davy turned around to see Micky toss himself onto the other side of his bed. "Not the cake." He mumbled again before snoring once more.

"Good to have you back Micky." Davy whispered, his smile getting bigger. He then left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

"Come along Eva!" Mike yelled as he and Maria waited at the doorway. Mike, Maria, and Eva were all leaving the house to either work or go to school. They all trusted Davy to watch over Micky and the house while they were out.

Eva, wearing a light pink dress and dress shoes, ran at her parents, her backpack jumping behind her. "Coming!"

"See you at four, Davy." Mike said, nodding his head, opening the door and letting the women leave first.

"See you later." Davy smiled. "Have fun."

Mike and Maria huffed sarcastically while Eva responded with an enthusiastic, 'I will!' They shut the door behind them, leaving Davy alone. He sighed, flopping down on the couch. After a moment, he stood, walking over to the spare bedroom, planning on sitting with Micky so it didn't feel so empty in the quiet house.

Upon entry Davy pulled up a chair, grabbed a book off the nearby book shelf and began to read. However he didn't have to read long. A long, painful groan startled the Englishman. "Micky?"

"My head…" Micky moaned, grabbing his head.

"It's Davy, Mick." Davy stated, placing a hand on one of the hands on Micky's forehead.

Micky's face narrowed. "Davy?"

"Yeah, man. It's me. Are you gonna open your eyes or what?" Davy was anxious to speak to him, apologize, and to reunite himself with the old Micky he used to know.

Micky opened one eye and it looked up at Davy. Quickly both eyes were open and Davy was assisting Micky to sit up. "Davy! You're back!"

"Micky,"

"We thought we'd never see you again!"

"Mick-"

"I mean, Mike even gave up wearing his wool hat for you!"

"Micky!" Davy said a little too loudly.

Micky grabbed his forehead. "Ow!"

"Sorry, but Micky, we're in Nevada."

"Nevada?" Micky looked around the small room. "I guess that explains why I don't know where we are. Where's Mike and Peter?"

"Still in California, I presume." Davy said. "Maria said you might not remember what happened."

"What happened?"

"The archduke from Harmonica, Otto, has returned to take Harmonica from Princess Bettina. He brainwashed me, you tried saving me, and he starved you."

"Then how'd we end up here?"

"We jumped off a train."

"Darn!"

"What?"

"I wish I could have remembered that! You do realize how cool it would be to jump off a train?"

"Micky, for one, you were nearly unconcious. Two, you would have been scared."

Micky pondered on the statement before responding, "Come on Davy, have a little faith in me."

Davy then told Micky about the Harts and everything that had happened the past couple days. After a while of Q and A, Davy brought Micky some soup to eat. "I probably should have gotten this for you when you woke up." Davy admitted. "How are you feeling?"

"My head still hurts, and I'm hungry, but besides that, I think I'm fine." Micky responded, tasting the soup. "Man, this is good. Did Maria make this?"

"Well, her and Eva."

After Micky finished his soup, Davy quickly took the bowl away. "Man, you don't need to babysit me. I'm a grown man."

"Sorry, but the doctor said you needed bedrest and I still feel guilty for everything that has happened."

"Hey Davy?"

"Hm?"

"Still remember 'All the King's Horses?'"

"How could I not?"


	8. Chapter 8- Kicking Stones

Chapter 8- Kicking Stones

 **Author's Note- I don't own 'Goin' Down' or any of the Monkees' characters. However, I do own the Hart family and sadly the old man who you'll meet breifly.**

"No, no, no, no, no!" Mike screamed, rattling the steering wheel as the car slowed to a halt. He hit the wheel, accidentally honking the horn. "Don't break down now!"

Peter tried to comfort the enraged beast. "Calm down Mike. It will be okay. Let's see what's wrong with her." The MonkeeMobile broke down on a long, empty road, a couple miles from the railroad. The two men had been following the tracks for days now, playing music for money. The two got out of the car and walked over to the hood. Mike opened it, and smoke rushed out of lit and floated away. Peter and Mike stepped away from the car.

"That's not good…" Peter observed.

Mike yelled in anger. He kicked a rock on the side of the road. Finding that it didn't relieve his anger, he picked up another and threw it towards the railroad. He yelled again, falling to his knees. Mike didn't get up after that. He sat there, breathing heavily, presumably thinking. Peter sighed. He walked around back to the back seat of the car and pulled out his bass and Mike's guitar. He carried them over to Mike who sat staring off into deep space. Peter gently set the guitar in front of Mike and began strumming a tune on his bass.

"Peter, no."

"What?"

"Put 'er away. The deed is done. Why did I think we could catch a train?"

"Because you believed you could right the wrong." Peter said flatly before strumming a couple notes.

"Why did you let me Pete?" Mike asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Because I believed in you, and I still do. We'll find them, Mike. We have to." Peter began strumming the baseline to 'You Just May be the One.'

Mike gave a large sigh. "How far do you think the nearest town is?"

"I don't know." Peter didn't look up from his playing. "But what time is it?"

Mike looked down at his watch. "3:47. Do you think it'd be worth it to walk in a direction and find help?"

"Maybe." Peter stopped playing. "What's your call, Mike?"

Mike stood up, grabbing his guitar. "I'll go that way. If I don't find anything by six, I'll start heading back this way. Stay by the car in case anyone comes by."

"Will do Mike. Stay safe."

"You too." Mike put his guitar in the back of the MonkeeMobile and began heading in the direction the car was facing. However, as he began to walk away, the two of them heard a car coming from a distance.

"Mike, wait!" Peter yelled. Mike walked back to the MonkeeMobile and waited for the car to come by. The two waved it down and the car slowed down. The driver, an elder of maybe sixty, rolled down his window. Mike and Peter approached the window.

"You boys lost?" The driver asked.

"Yeah, a bit. Our car broke down."

"That's too bad. Benson is about thirty miles the other way." The driver laughed. "Where'd you get _that_ shiner, kid?"

"I was in a fight." Mike responded, his hand instantly protecting his black eye.

"I'll give you some advice, kid. You'll live longer if you stop fighting. Good luck boys!" With that, the driver quickly drove off, leaving Mike and Peter in the dust.

"What a jerk!" Mike growled.

"Calm down Mike." Peter repeated.

"How can I calm down? The nearest town is thirty freaking miles from here! In the _other_ direction, none the less!" He flopped down onto the side of the road once again, defeated. "We'll never find Micky and Davy." Peter sat down next to him, but said nothing. Mike needed to regain hope, that's all. Mike breathed heavily in the silence they were left in.

Fifteen minutes after the old man drove off, Peter could hear another car come down the road, from the same direction Mike and Peter had originally come from. Peter stood, but Mike remained seated. "Don't worry about it, Pete. They won't help us."

Peter still stood, though, waving at the car. The car came to a halt. This time, the two windows facing the them rolled down, revealing the driver and a little blonde girl.

"Hi! What's the matter with your car mister?" The girl asked.

"She demanded we stop." The driver responded.

"I'm Eva! My daddy is a mechanic. Right Daddy?" The blonde stated confidently.

The driver put the car into park and got out. He was about the same height as Mike, with light brown hair and a brown mustache. "I'm Mike. Like my daughter said, she's Eva. In there is my wife too, Maria."

Peter waved to the woman in scrubs in the car. "My name's Peter. That's my friend, Mike. Our car broke down."

"We could tell by the smoke." The man laughed. "Let me take a look at it." By this point the smoke had thinned out, but was still burning. Mike stood up when the driver approached the car. Both men watched as the mechanic peered inside the car. He quickly came out. "Well, all the parts that are out of commision I have back at home. Lucky for you I have a tow cable. Would you mind me bringing this beauty back to the house?"

"Not at all." Mike answered. "What do you need me to do?" Peter smiled at Mike's offer. This was a sign that Mike finally had some hope again. The three men shut the hood of the car and hooked her up to the back of the mechanic's car. Mike and Peter got in with Eva and they began to drive away, ironically in the direction Mike and Peter were originally going.

"What are your names again?" Eva asked curiously.

"I'm Mike." Mike smiled at the little girl.

"I'm Peter."

"Hi Mike! Hi Peter!" Eva said.

"This is going to get complicated." Maria sighed, laying her head in her hand.

"What?" Her husband asked.

"Two Mikes."

"Who's it going to be complicated for?" Mike Hart asked.

"Me, for one. Two, the others at the house."

"Oh. _OH_." Mike Hart's eyes widened. "Right. Hey guys?"

"Hm?" Peter said.

"So, we currently have two others staying with us, so room is going to be tight."

"That's alright." Mike Nesmith said. "I was hoping we could be out of your hair by the end of the night.

"No!" Eva cried. "You can't go! You haven't met my friends yet!"

"Now Eva, we might not have enough room for them to stay the night." Maria said.

"But Mommy!"

"We'll see what happens Eva." Mike Hart said.

Mike Nesmith and Peter looked at one another, curious as to what they were getting into.

The Mikes and Peter helped get the car ready for repair while Maria took Eva into the house.

"Davy!" Eva called. "We're home!" As if she knew, she ran to the spare bedroom where she found Davy and Micky talking.

"Hey there!" Davy said, taking Eva into his lap. "Micky, I'd like you to meet Eva."

"Nice to meet you Eva." Micky smiled, shaking her hand.

"Davy says that you sing too! _Can you_ _really sing_?" Eva asked.

"Of course I can!" Micky said as though he was offended. He took in a deep breath. "Floatin' down the river with a saturated liver and I wish I could forgive her, but I do believe she meant it when she told me to forget it, and I bet she will regret it when they find me in the morning wet and drown, and word gets round. Ba da, Goin' down."

Davy and Eva laughed. "Wow Mick, where'd that come from?" Davy asked.

"That's a little bit Peter has been helping me work on. Mike wrote it after a girl dumped him shortly after you left. It took us weeks to get him fully functional again."

"Oh." Davy said, suddenly sober.

"Oh!" Eva yelped, jumping off Davy's lap. "Davy! You need to meet my new friends!" She looked at Micky and her facial features crossed in concentration. "What's your name again?"

"Micky." Micky laughed.

"Micky! You need to meet my new friends!" Eva shouted.

"You think you can make it out the door, Mick?" Davy asked.

"Let's see." Micky replied, throwing away the bed covers and swinging his feet over the side of the bed. He quickly rose, but fell again.

"Not too fast, man." Davy commented, walking over to the other side to help Micky up. Soon, Davy had Micky out the door with Eva in the lead.

"I don't remember their names, but they were very nice. Daddy is helping them fix their super-car."

"Super-car?" Micky asked.

"Uh, huh! It's red and is sparkly, and looks super cool!" Eva commented, opening the front door.

Davy slowly lead Micky out onto the front porch. Eva had already darted left towards the car and the three men standing around it. Micky and Davy's mouths dropped.

"Is that…?" Davy asked quietly.

"Uh huh…" Micky responded in a similar daze as Davy.

"Mike!" Micky yelled.

"Peter!" Davy yelled.

The three men turned around towards them. To their relief, it was Mike and Peter. Smiles grew on everyone's faces.

"Micky!" Mike yelled.

"Davy!" Peter yelled. The two men ran over to the porch where the reunion took place. Peter ran up to the two men, whereas Mike fell short of the steps, somehow unable to continue. Mike's absence did not go unnoticed.

"Come on Mike!" Micky called.

However, Mike didn't move, but his eyes followed Davy. Davy handed Micky off to Peter and walked off the porch. Mike took a step back. "Mike, man, I'm sorry. Otto and that evil doctor, they erased my memory temporarily. I'm sorry I did that to you. Micky saved me. Micky gave me my memory back. Sadly, I remember everything I did under Otto's control." Davy gave a small chuckle. "Sorry for the black eye."

Mike smiled, touching the light purple that surrounded his eye. "It's alright Tiny. As long as you're alright." Mike swallowed the Englishman in a hug before Micky and Peter joined him.

"Excuse me!" Eva's high voice demanded. "What's going on?"

The four men backed away from each other and looked down at the little girl. Davy picked up the girl. "You know that all-singing band I was telling you about?" The girl nodded. "Well, this is the rest of the band. We're the Monkees."


	9. Chapter 9- A Little Bit Me

Chapter 9- A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You

"What are the odds?" Maria said, placing a bowl of corn on the table. Since there were more people than normal, she decided she needed to make a formal dinner to accommodate the masses. "That the four of you somehow ended up in the same place in the end."

"I don't know, but I'm grateful." Mike Nesmith said.

"No kidding." Micky added. "Man, I'm starving."

"I'm not surprised. We've only been giving you soup since we brought you here." Mike Hart added.

Peter and Mike Nesmith looked from Davy to Mike Hart in confusion. Davy then proceeded to tell the story... again. This time, given Davy had a bigger audience, he went into detail about his experience, what he remembered, and how he felt during the event. Of course, he answered his friends' questions, filling in any details he might have missed. When the story verged off into jokes, stories, and laughter, Davy noticed one thing wrong among the laughter. Eva. She was sitting in between her parents on the other side of the table, pouting as she ate her food.

"What's the matter Eva?" Davy asked.

"Nothing…" she muttered.

"Are you sure?" Davy asked.

Eva nodded, slipping a spoonful of mashed potatoes in her mouth. Davy cocked an eyebrow. "Eva?"

The six-year-old looked up from her food. "Hm?"

Davy glanced at his friends, hoping to somehow transmit a message to them on his next course of action. They all stared on, confused. _It's been too long._ Davy thought. He looked back at Eva, a huge grin on his face. "Walk out, girl, don'tcha walk out we've got things to say. Talk out, let's have it talked out and things will be okay. Girl, I don't want to fight. I'm a little bit wrong, and you're a little bit right."

Mike Nesmith, Peter, and Micky's confusion was cured as they caught on, harmonizing with the Englishman. Eva looked up at Davy, a small smile creeping on her face. Maria and Mike Hart looked on at the scene in amazement. Davy stood up, walking around and picking up the little girl, twirling her around. "I said girl, you know that it's true. It's a little bit me, it's a little bit you." The other three Monkees tried to stifle their laughs as the girl broke and began to laugh.

Before anyone knew it, Maria was carrying her sleeping daughter to her bedroom while Mike Hart was scrambling to find blankets and pillows. They all decided Micky still needed to sleep in the guest room, while the three others would sleep out in the living room. After Micky's vocal protests, Mike Nesmith took him to bed. Peter and Davy helped set up sleeping bags with Mike Hart. Mike and Maria both appeared minutes later.

"You guys don't know how much you've influenced my little girl." Maria said to the room.

"Do you know why she was so down at dinner?" Peter asked.

Maria sighed. "She doesn't want to go to school tomorrow. She wanted to spend all of tomorrow with the four of you, but I told her that she had to go to school."

"Oh." Peter responded.

"I'll talk to her in the morning, if it helps." Davy said.

"Would you?" Mike Hart asked. "You're all she talked about on the way into town this morning. She didn't stop talking about you until we picked up Mike and Peter."

"What'd she talk about then?"

"She interrogated us." Mike Nesmith deadpanned.

Davy gave a slight chuckle. "How am I not surprised?"

"She's going to be devastated when you go home." Mike Hart pointed out.

"Oh, right." Davy said. He had completely forgotten that they had to go back to California. Besides the fact that the others needed to return home, he and Micky were currently missing persons. "Well, why don't I leave an address for her? She can write to us anytime."

"That's a good idea." Peter added.

"For once Davy's got a girl that he _can't_ leave behind." Mike Nesmith grinned.

"Watch it!" Davy growled.

"Do you still do that?" Peter asked.

"Do what?"

"Fall for every girl you see." Mike Nesmith added.

"Oh, come on guys…"

"Yeah, Mike. We need to wait so Micky can have in on this."

"Peter!"

"What? I'm joking."

Mike Hart now had his wife by the hand. "I think you guys should be getting to bed too, before you kill each other." Davy shivered. "Sorry Davy."

"It's alright. Good night Mike, good night Maria."

"Good night guys." Maria said.

"Night." Mike Hart said before turning off the lights.

"Are you guys going to be alright?" Maria asked as she helped Eva put her coat on. It was Friday. Every morning since Tuesday had ended up the same.

"We'll be fine." Micky responded from the couch. The Mikes were outside talking as Eva and Maria were getting ready to go to school and work.

"Hey Eva?" Davy said, walking over and kneeling so he could be at eye level with the girl.

"Yes Davy?"

"Don't sweat it. Everything's going to be alright. We'll be here when you get home from school, okay? It's Friday, which means we can play all day tomorrow." Davy smiled at the girl. She smiled back, happy to hear the good news. "Now go have fun at school."

The little girl smiled, wrapping Davy in a big hug. "I love you Davy." Eva whispered.

"I love you too Eva. Now, you've gotta go."

"Bye Davy! Bye Peter! Bye Micky!" Eva called as she and her mother walked out the front door.

Several minutes later Mike Nesmith returned. "I told Mike not to sweat it about the car. He's got off tomorrow so we'll be able to fix it then. We should be off by tomorrow night or the morning after."

"Groovy man!" Micky said.

"Nice" Peter added.

"Cool." Davy said, not as enthusiastically as the others.

"What's the matter man?" Mike asked, pulling up a chair and sitting in it backwards.

"It's nothing. I just can't believe we'll be leaving so soon." Davy sighed.

"It's about Eva, isn't it?" Mike asked sincerely.

Davy nodded. "She's so happy when we're around. I can't imagine how she's going to feel when we go back." Granted, they all were not so eager to head back to Malibu, whether they realized it or not. They all began to warm up to the girl within the short week they had been reunited, and none of them wanted to leave, but they also felt as though they were imposing on Mike and Maria's lives. They knew they had to go home and face the disaster they left behind.

"Hey guys?" Micky asked. If anyone was going to bring it up, it would be him. "What's going to happen when we get home?" They all stared at each other in silence. Davy felt like he was going to throw up. He closed his eyes, dreading the idea of going back to England. There could be no way his grandfather would ever let him leave England after what happened. Davy took a quick inhale of breath.

"What would we be doing if I didn't go home? Where would we be if my grandfather wasn't such a-"

"Davy." Mike intervened. "Watch it."

"Sorry Mike. It's just…"

"We know." Mike added.

"You know," Peter said. They all looked at him as if he was never there in the first place, and that he was intruding on a secret conversation. "I bet, in some alternative reality, Davy did get to stay with us. And I bet right now we'd probably be on some adventure. You know, hitting the high seas with pirates or dealing with some whacks who want to use the pad for a seance."

"You know Pete, that's oddly specific." Micky commented.

"Yeah, and why a pirate ship? The three of you get seasick easily." Mike said.

"That's what these are for!" Micky beemed, pulling a small white bottle from his pocket.

"How long have you had those?" Davy inquired.

"You never know when you're going to be seasick!" Micky smiled.

"Just don't give me any of those, man." Mike's face twisted in disgust. "Those might work for you guys, but I'm not taking any chances."

"Sure Mike." They all said.

They all sat in silence for a moment. After the silence overstayed its welcome, Micky kicked it out. "I've got an idea!" Micky said, jumping up from the couch, but quickly returning due to a sudden headache. The other three groaned in disapproval. Even before Davy left, Micky's ideas were a bad sign. "No, no, this is a good one, I promise. Now here's what I've got in mind…"


	10. Chapter 10- So Goes Love

Chapter 10- So Goes Love

The Harts pulled into their driveway, back from a long day of work and learning. Eva ran straight for the front door, ready to play with the Monkees. However, she was stopped at the door by a particular Mike Nesmith, who picked her up and placed her down at the bottom of the steps.

"No can do. You'll have to wait." Mike said to the little girl.

Eva scrunched her face together to express annoyance. "And why not?" She asked in her best, 'can't-you-see-I'm-mad' voice.

"Because Davy said so." Mike smiled, knowing the excuse would get the little girl to obey. She flopped down into the dirt, crossing her arms and pouting.

"What's going on?" Maria asked when her and her husband approached the scene.

"We've got a surprise for the three of you, to express our gratitude. We're just not ready yet."

Mike Hart cocked an eyebrow. "What did you do to my house?"

"Nothing! I promise." As if on queue Peter emerged from the front door, declaring that everything was ready. "Alright folks, come on in." Mike escorted the family into the house.

The two Monkees led the family to the living room where Micky and Davy were. Set up in the living room was Mike Hart's old drum set, which took up a large amount of the room. Micky sat behind the drums, tapping out a complicated rhythm. Davy held a tambourine Maria remembered buying at a garage sale. The family was led to the couch. After they were seated, Mike and Peter tuned their guitars and a banjo Maria remembered inheriting from her father. After everything had been tuned, Mike introduced the group.

"Now, I know within the last week you've heard us sing," Mike began.

"A lot." Davy added.

"Yeah, a lot." Mike continued, giving Davy a look. "But, well, you see, we didn't know of any other way to thank you guys for everything you've done for us. So while you were gone we found some instruments and decided to give ya'll a concert."

"Mommy, Mommy!" Eva cried. "I've never been to a concert!"

"Shush dear, let Mike finish." Maria said, placing a finger on Eva's lips.

The four Monkees smiled. "Well, that pretty much sums it up. We'll start with 'Papa Gene's Blues.'" And off they went. During the first song the family sat diligently, studying the boys. Eva made it more obvious than her parents, sitting on the front edge of her seat, eyes squinting and her head propped up on an arm. With the final cord to 'Papa Gene's Blues' ringing in the house, the band jumped right into 'Laugh.' Maria and Mike were astonished at the symbolism thrown into the song. All the lyrics, however, went over Eva's head, who was now smiling, her feet swinging to the beat. The song ended with the couple passing concerned glances at each other. From 'Laugh' they went to 'Your Auntie Grizelda,' giving the family no notification of the transition. Eva fell off the couch from jumping due to the intensity of the new song. Maria jumped as well, but was saved by her husband's arms. The Monkees smiled at the surprise.

When 'Your Auntie Grizelda' finished, the boys gave the family a minute to recollect themselves. Maria and Mike were laughing while Eva threw toddler threats at the Monkees. "Don't do that! I could have died!"

After everyone settled down, they launched into 'I'm a Believer.' Everyone's mood lightened to the tune of doubt and the finding of true love. As the song ended, Micky declared they would take a fifteen minute break. At the notion, Mike, Peter, and Micky disappeared into different parts of the house. Davy remained in the living room with the Harts. Mike Hart stood, aiming for the kitchen. However, Davy quickly ran in front of him. "No can do. The kitchen and the back porch are off limits!"

Mike Hart cocked an eyebrow. "Can I go to the bathroom then?"

Davy stepped aside. "Go ahead."

Maria laughed at the notion. "What have the four of you got going for us? We didn't do _that_ much!"

Davy kneeled in front of the woman, putting on a very polite, extravagant voice. "Ma'dam, you saved my life. You saved the life of my comrade, and most of all, you brought the four of us together again. There is nothing we could possibly do that would make up for all you have done for us."

"Well, there is one thing." Maria said, blushing. Eva was too busy humming to herself 'I'm a Believer' to notice what her mother was saying.

"Whatever the deed is, consider it done." Davy responded in his polite voice.

Maria leaned in, her face as bright as a cherry. "Could you, well, tell my Mike that… oh, no I can't make you do that."

"Do what?" Davy said in his normal voice, suddenly realizing this was no laughing matter.

Maria leaned in closer. "I'm pregnant. When I was pregnant with Eva he didn't find out till he asked me if I was." Davy couldn't believe her face could be any more red than it already was. Obviously he was wrong. "I don't want that to happen again. It was awkward for the both of us."

Davy thought for a moment. "I don't think I have the right to tell him, Maria, but I do think I can set the mood for it. Me mates and I have everything ready. We were planning on it after the concert." He whispered so the day-dreaming girl didn't hear. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but we've got a candle-lit dinner prepared outside for you and Mike. I'm having dinner too, in the kitchen."

Maria's face burned. "Thank you."

Davy quickly got up as everyone returned to the living room. Maria's face returned to a natural color, and Mike Nesmith gave another speech. "This next portion of the concert includes pieces that, well, Davy doesn't know too well. Peter, Micky, and I wrote them when he was still in England. However, we're going to start with one Davy and Micky know pretty well as a transition piece.

Davy looked at Mike with utter confusion. They had not told him about this part of the concert. They were originally going to play four more songs that he knew pretty well, but this threw him off guard. "And what one is that, Mike?" Mike gave him a shy smile as he and the other two launched into 'Gonna Buy Me a Dog,' allowing it to take Davy by surprise and causing all of his parts to come on late, just as it was supposed to be. Eva laughed as Davy tried to recover when one of his bandmates would shove him or come in with him. Micky tried hard to keep from laughing, but failed miserably. The Harts were laughing as well. When the song finally ended. Davy straightened himself out, muttering, "Not funny guys."

"Says the man who's smilin'" Mike Hart commented, laughing himself.

Mike Nesmith took in a deep breath to calm himself down. "Right, this next piece is called, 'Circle Sky.' Davy, just keep a steady beat for this one." Davy nodded as Mike launched 'Circle Sky.' Mike and Maria listened tentatively, however Eva now was curled up in the nook of her mother's arm. After 'Circle Sky,' Micky left his spot at the drum set and began 'Goin' Down,' surprising everyone with the speed at which he was singing. Frankly, no one understood that he was singing about a man's thoughts as he committed suicide, but they seemed to enjoy the impressive dancing he dished out. Out of breath, Micky finished 'Goin' Down,' and returned to his place behind the drum set.

"Now, our final piece is called, 'I Don't Think You Know Me.'" Mike announced. They started playing, but when it was time for the lead vocals to come in, Mike, Micky, and Peter came in at the same time. Trying to not stop the band, Mike tried to overpower the others. Peter and Micky tried to do the same. It was Davy who cut off the band.

"Oi! Come on, now what is this? Only one of you has to sing lead!"

"I'm supposed to sing lead!" The three chorused. Each gave the other a scowl.

Maria and Mike Hart snickered as Davy gave a heart-felt sigh. "Right. Try another song then if you can't agree."

"What's wrong with that one?" Eva asked, oblivious to what just happened.

Davy laughed. "On with the next tune, mates."

After a minute or two of arguing, they decided upon Micky's 'song about porpoises,' which they had not given a proper title yet. When this piece finished, the boys bowed and the Harts applauded. As the applause died down, Micky announced it was time for food. "If you will follow me, Mr. and Mrs. Hart, to your table." Micky said, leading the way to the back porch. The couple followed.

Davy held out his hand to little Eva who tried to follow her parents. "Excuse me Ms. Hart, but you would mind accompanying me to dinner this evening?"

The little girl blushed. "Sure, Davy." She giggled as she was escorted to the kitchen.

It was dimly lit, the only light being that of some candles. The table was covered in a white cloth, and two plates were set upon it. Davy pulled out a chair and insisted Eva sit down. When he pulled her chair in he sat down across from her. Peter came up to them with a big dimple smile. "My name is Peter and I will be your waiter this evening."

Mike Hart pulled out a chair for his wife. The Monkees had set up a small table on the back porch for the couple. White Christmas lights hung around the doorway and porch. A tall candle sat in the middle of the red-clothed table. Mike Hart sat down across from his wife. Micky walked up to the table, putting on his best 'snobby waiter' impression.

"Good evening ma 'dam and monsieur, I shall be your waiter this evening. Mr. Nesmith will provide accompaniment for your meal. Now our special tonight is spaghetti with a Italian meatballs and imported garlic bread."

"Where was the bread imported from?" Maria asked.

"Your freezer." Mike deadpanned, strumming a quiet medley.

Micky blushed. Mike Hart laughed, "We'll take two."

"Will do sir." Micky said, bowing and running off into the house. Micky ran into the kitchen, finding Davy and Eva engaged in a conversation about unicorns while Peter was finishing up a second plate of spaghetti. "Two more Pete." Micky said, handing him the plates.

"Hey Mick, come here a moment." Davy interrupted. "I need to talk to you."

"Aren't you on a date?" Micky asked, being handed a plate.

"Just get over here."

"Alright, alright." Micky said. He walked over to the Englishmen, kneeling so he could be face-to-face with the shorty. "What?"

"Right, so Eva, tell Micky what's what."

"Mommy's,"

"Not so loud."

"Sorry Davy." Eva dropped her voice to a raspy whisper. "Mommy's having a baby."

"And Mike doesn't know."

"Why would Mike care?" Micky asked.

"Not our Mike!" Davy hissed. "Now I need you and our Mike to set the mood so Maria can tell him, got it?"

Micky nodded. He stood, grabbed the second plate for Maria and Mike, and hurried out of the kitchen. Upon delivery he quickly poured the couple some wine. He backed away to join Mike Nesmith, who was strumming the tune of 'So Goes Love.'

Micky whispered the situation into Mike's ear. Mike nodded and suddenly began strumming the tune of 'As We Go Along.' Micky quietly sang the words. " _I can tell by your face, that you're looking to find a place, to settle your mind and reveal who you are. And you shouldn't be shy, for I'm not gonna try to hurt you or heal you or steal your star."_

Maria looked over at the two men, as if mentally asking them if it was time. They nodded in sync. Maria took a deep breath before taking her husband's hand in hers. "Michael,"

"Yes dear?" Mike looked up, his mouth full of spaghetti.

Maria laughed at him. She took another deep breath to calm herself before proceeding. "I need to tell you something."

"You were able to convince your mother not to move in with us!" Mike asked, hopeful.

"No," Maria said, taken aback. "I'm… I'm…"

"Pregnant?" Mike asked, cocking an eyebrow. "I know. I found the pregnancy test in the trash last week. I've been waiting for you to tell me."

Maria blushed. "Sorry."

Mike squeezed his wife's hand. "It's okay. At least I didn't have to fish it out of you." He smiled. Mike Nesmith and Micky Dolenz stumbled to shake each other's hand at the accomplishment. Micky and Mike finished 'As We Go Along,' while Maria and Mike finished their meal.


	11. Chapter 11-Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow

Chapter 11- Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow)

The next morning Davy and Peter saw little of Mike and Micky. The two Monkees had gone out with Mike Hart to town to get the proper supplies needed for the MonkeeMobile. Maria had made breakfast that morning for herself, her daughter, and the two Monkees who stayed behind. Shortly after breakfast, Maria found Davy, Peter, and Eva outside, racing one another. After the races concluded Eva ran inside to tell her mother the results, with the two losers in tow.

Around noon the Mikes and Micky came back and immediately began to work on the MonkeeMobile. Davy had decided that after lunch that he, Peter, and Maria should go with Eva for a walk out in the meadow. Everyone seemed to agree, except for Eva who wanted to tell her father about everything that had happened that morning.

In the meadow, Davy ran around with Eva, a couple yards away from where Maria and Peter were. When Davy and Eva disappeared into the fairly tall grass, Maria plopped onto the ground, indicating that she would go no further.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, sitting down beside her.

"I'm fine." Maria told him. She watched Eva run from Davy before she spoke again. "She's going to be devastated when he leaves."

"I know. Davy will be too." Peter replied, not making eye contact with Maria, but watching Davy accidentally drop Eva, as well as falling himself.

"What's going to happen when you four go home to California?" Maria asked, now looking at Peter.

"I don't really know. I assume we tell the police we found Micky and Davy, Davy goes home to England, and we resume our lives as if Davy never came back." Peter frowned. "But I don't want that to happen. I know Mike and Micky don't want that either."

"You guys don't want to go home?" Maria asked.

"Of course not. Unless a miracle is waiting for us back in Malibu." Peter brought his knees to his face, propping up his chin.

"I'm sorry," Maria sighed, feeling helpless. "I wish there was something I could do."

"I'll let you know if I think of anything." Peter moaned, his face in concentration mode.

"Davy!" Eva whined as Davy tossed her to the ground again. "It's not fair that you're bigger than me."

"That's a statement I'll never hear again." He said to himself before jumping out of the way of a six-year-old steam train. When she came back at him he scooped her up and carried the girl over to where Maria and Peter were talking. "Your turn Peter." He said, dropping the girl at his feet.

"That's fair." Peter stood, taking Eva by the hand. "Come along Eva." Eva skipped away with Peter as they walked around to find the perfect starting point for another race.

"She loves you." Maria commented, smiling at Davy.

"I know." Davy said, falling into the grass and taking deep, heavy breaths. "I never realized how much work it took to raise one of those things."

"It's easier with more than one." Maria laughed. "Before she was born I used to babysit kids her age. All they wanted to do was play with each other."

Davy nodded before lying down. He looked up at the clouds that passed by. "Today's a beautiful day, isn't it?" He said to no one in particular. Maria responded to the comment with a word or two that didn't need an answer, so Davy let his mind wander. Cloud after cloud passed by. A nice breeze would cool his front before the heat of the sun took over again. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, Davy felt a heavy 'thump' next to him. Next he saw Eva's face obscure his view of the clouds.

"Hi!" She chirped.

Davy smiled. "Hello love."

Eva giggled. "Are you sleeping?"

"Do I talk while I'm sleeping?" He asked, expecting the answer to be 'no.'

"Yes. I hear all four of you talk some nights." She stated as if it was not a joke. Of course, in her case, it wasn't.

"Seriously?" Davy slowly sat up, looking at Peter and Maria for support.

Maria shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "Thursday night I had to babysit her till she fell asleep because she was distracted by the four of you sleep-talking about pirates."

"Pirates?" Peter asked.

"All four of us?"

"Well, Mike less than the three of you. Eva was making up a story for it." Peter and Davy gave each other blank looks.

Eva smiled happily at the two Monkees. "I didn't know Micky could do parrot impressions in his sleep!" She cleared her throat to demonstrate. "Squawk! Not without my puppy! Squawk!"

Davy and Peter burst out laughing. "Are you sure it wasn't all Micky?" Davy asked.

Eva laughed, clearing her throat again. "Parrots… don't have dogs." Eva said in her best six-year-old British accent. Both Peter and Davy turned red, not just from laughter, but from embarrassment as well.

Out of breath, Maria proclaimed it was probably time to head back to the house. It was a two-to-one vote. They headed back to the house. Upon their arrival they found the three men who had been working on the car sleeping in the living room. Davy had to walk the young girl through the house with his hand around her mouth to prevent any disturbance. Peter offered to help Maria with dinner while Davy kept Eva quiet. Davy took Eva into her room to read to her.

"Davy, dinner's ready." Peter said, opening the door to Eva's room. To his surprise, he found both Eva and Davy, fast asleep on the little girl's bed… almost. Davy's head and arms were lying on the bed while the rest of him kept him upright on the floor. Eva was curled up next to the Brit's face, both sleeping soundly.

Peter walked over to his friend, shaking his shoulder. Davy slowly woke up, turning to Peter. "What?" He asked in a groggy voice.

"Maria and I are finished with dinner. We're waiting on you and Eva."

"What about Mike, Mike, and Micky?" Davy asked.

"They're up and waiting for the two of you, come on." Peter said. "I'll let you wake up Sleeping Beauty there."

"Come off it Pete, you got that line from Micky, didn't you?" Davy hissed, fixing his hair.

"I'm sorry! I couldn't resist. He used it on me one morning because Mike had slept in too late and we both knew he'd kill us for waking him up."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. We'll be out in a minute." Davy said, slowly standing up. Peter smiled, quickly retreating from the room.

Peter returned to the kitchen, all eyes on him. "Well, where are they?" Micky asked. "I'm starving!"

"You're always starving, Mick." Mike Nesmith retorted.

"I'm sorry, but I'm a growing boy who needs food and attention!" Micky cried.

"You're twenty-two years old Micky. You're not a child, but you certainly do need the attention." Mike rolled his eyes at his roommate.

"They were sleeping. Davy's waking Eva up now. They should be any minute now." Peter said, taking a seat.

"Awe! How cute." Maria smiled. "Mike, remember that morning we found Eva curled up in between us in bed because of the thunderstorm the night before?"

Davy came into the room, carrying the little star in his arms. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, still obviously tired. He placed her in a seat and then took one himself. "So, what's for dinner?" Davy asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Hamburgers, hot dogs, and fries." Maria said. "Alright Micky, you can eat now."

"Thank goodness!" Micky bellowed, grabbing a couple of buns from a bag.

"Very American." Davy noted, waiting for the bag to be passed around.

"Very." Mike Nesmith added.

No one else spoke till everyone had actually been served and had begun eating. Micky, of course, had little to say anyhow. The first one to speak was Mike Hart.

"So the car's fixed. You're free birds."

"How much do we owe you?" Davy asked before taking a bite out of his hamburger. "I'll ask my grandfather to send a check."

"It's free of charge. Take it as a gift of appreciation." Mike Hart said.

"The point is we can go home." Mike Nesmith added. "We're going to have a lot of paperwork to fill out once we get back. Pete n' I are gonna have to find new jobs now, too."

"New jobs?" Davy asked.

"Mike and I quit our old ones to come and look for you and Micky, because we didn't know how long it would be till we found you." Peter said, popping a fry in his mouth.

" _If_ we ever found you, that is." Mike added.

"Alright, when do you plan to leave?" Davy asked, afraid of where this was going.

"Sometime tomorrow." Mike admitted. Davy's crestfallen expression did not go unnoticed. "I'm sorry man, but you're grandfather has got the whole of California looking for you."

"I know." Davy said.

"Boy, this food sure is good Maria!" Micky proclaimed through a mouth full of food.

"Thanks. Peter did his fair share too, you know." Maria laughed, picking up a hot dog.

"I don't believe it." Micky stated. He swallowed his food. "The only thing Peter ever makes is soup. We had to teach him something else besides 'Cream of Root Beer Soup.'"

"Hey!" Peter said, offended.

The conversation continued, and Davy quickly forgot about going back to California. After dinner they finished the night with some board games the Mikes fished from the attic. When it was time for bed, a particular person had some protests, but was then dragged off to bed. Micky continued to sleep in the guest bedroom, while Mike, Peter, and Davy all shared the living room.

"Those two are inseparable."

"Awe. So cute."

"How'd she get past us?"

"We're not going to be able to even get out of the driveway without one of them running for the other."

"Be nice, Mike. It's not Davy's fault women love him."

"She's six."

"Not the point."

The Mikes, Maria, Micky, and Peter all stood above the sleeping Davy Jones and Eva Hart. Eva was snuggled in close to Davy's chest, with one of his arms protecting her.

"If Eva wasn't with him I'd dump water on his British head."

"Micky!"

"What? I used to do it all the time when he still lived in California."

"You only did it once, Micky. Didn't you?"

"I did too do it more than once!"

"You did it more than once, all right. To me."

"Sorry Mike."

Davy could hear the bickering above him. Could he just _not_ get up? All he wanted was to sit still and sleep. Why was doing stuff such an important part of life? He did _not_ want to pursue the day. He knew that by this time tomorrow he'd either be in the MonkeeMobile driving towards Malibu, or in Malibu, sitting in the police station waiting for his grandfather to pick him up. Could he just stay here?

"I think I'm gonna do it."

Davy groaned. "Micky, if one drop of water hits my head, I'm gonna kill ya." Davy refused to open his eyes. Instead, he pulled the sleeping girl in, digging his face into her blonde hair.

"Well good morning Prince Charming!" Davy could hear the Texan proclaim. "Rise and shine!"

"No." Davy stated flatly, not abandoning his position.

"What do you mean, 'no?'" Micky asked. Davy felt a 'thud' on the ground. He opened up one eye to find another eye anterior to his.

"I mean, 'no.'" Davy said flatly, closing his eye.

"Excuse me." Davy heard Maria say. He felt a shadow over him, then movement. "Eva, Eva wake up sweetie.

Davy opened both his eyes to find Eva waking up from her sleep. "Hi Mommy." She said quietly.

Maria took Eva into her arms. "There. Now I don't think you have an excuse to get up." Maria said, louder. "Eva, let's get you dressed." Davy felt footsteps leading away from him. Groaning, he sat up on the floor.

"Good morning Davy!" Peter cried happily.

"Now that you're up, maybe you'd care for some breakfast?" Mike Hart asked.

"I'll have his if he doesn't want it!" Micky proclaimed.

"Micky you already had breakfast." Mike Nesmith complained.

"Why would you want two breakfasts?" Peter asked.

"Never mind Peter." Micky said.

"Micky n' I will make sure everything we need is in the car. Right, Mick?" Mike said, elbowing Micky in the side.

"Ow! Right, Mike." Micky moaned. Mike and Micky walked out of the house, leaving just Peter and Mike Hart with Davy.

"Here, I'll help you up." Mike offered a hand to the Englishman. Reluctantly, Davy accepted the hand and stood. "Breakfast is in the kitchen. I'll be out with Mike and Micky if you need me." With that Mike left, leaving Peter to go with Davy to the kitchen. Davy was not ready for the day to begin.


	12. Chapter 12- Bye Bye Baby Bye Bye

Chapter 12- Bye Bye Baby Bye Bye

 **Author's Note: Short chapter... ish. I've been trying to get this chapter to happen for the last two chapters, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I don't own the Monkees, the MonkeeMobile, any characters from the television show, but I do own the Harts. Oh, I also don't own the episode plot lines mention in the last couple chapters, like _Hitting the High Seas._**

The MonkeeMobile was packed, fueled, and ready to hit the open road. Michael Nesmith, Micky Dolenz, Peter Tork, and David Jones stood facing away from their beloved car, towards the family that had nurtured them back to health for two weeks. Maria and Mike Hart had taken the time to explain to Eva that the Monkees were going home while the band outside, preparing for their long trip back to California. Eva knew full well what was going on. The Hart Family stood across from the Monkees, their backs facing their beloved home. The six-year-old blonde walked up to Michael, surprising the Texan by hugging his legs. Mike slowly scooped the girl up and hugged her. She latched on tightly to Mike's thin frame.

"You won't forget me, will you Mike?" Eva whispered so no one else would hear.

Mike pulled the little girl back to look at her face. He cocked an eyebrow, but pulled her back in, whispering into her ear, "Of course not Eva. You're the reason I'm standing here. You saved my friends. I am forever in your debt."

The little girl smiled at the words. "You promise?" She whispered into his ear.

"I promise."

"Goodbye Mike." Eva said louder, pulling herself from the Texan's shoulder. Mike set her down and she moved onto the next Monkee, Micky.

She smiled up at the man, proceeding to hug his legs too. Micky bent down to her level and embraced the hug. "Thank you for saving my life, Eva." Micky said loudly, but with sentimental value.

Eva turned red. "You're welcome Micky. Thank you for not dying."

Micky laughed, pulling away. "Not this man, Eva. Nothing can take down George Michael Dolenz!"

Eva laughed as Micky stood up. "Goodbye Micky."

"Goodbye Eva." Micky ruffled her hair as she moved onto the next Monkee, Peter.

Peter scooped her up into a hug, holding her tightly. "Thank you Eva. You're an angel."

"You're welcome Peter, but what did I do to you?" Eva asked.

"You brought my family back together." He said, setting the little girl back down.

"Well in that case, you're welcome Peter." She smiled up at the blonde man, who gave her one of his genuine smiles that made people feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"Goodbye Eva."

"Goodbye Peter."

Without moving, Eva looked at Davy. Her smile was wiped away and a frown took its place. Her eyes widened and tears began to form in her pretty eyes. Davy moved over to her as she began to cry. He wrapped his arms around her as the contact made her cry even more. He spoke quiet words of comfort as he felt her grip tighten. Everyone else could only stand and watch. It was a good five minutes before her crying mellowed out. Davy pulled her back a little so that he was face to face with his star. "Eva?" She nodded to show she was listening. "Listen, just because I'm leaving doesn't mean you'll never hear from me again. Here," he pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. "This has my address on it. You can mail me all the letters in the world, groovy?"

The little girl opened up the paper to find _1334 Beachwood Dr. Malibu, CA 98474_ written on it. She placed it in the pocket of her jeans and looked back to Davy. "Will I ever see you again?"

"If you're ever in California, make sure to visit. If we ever come to Benson, we'll make sure to stop by. I promise."

"Okay." A small smile appeared on her face as she hugged the man again. "I love you, Davy Jones."

"I love you too, Eva." Davy embraced the hug. This time it took a minute or two for Eva to release her grip. When she did, she ran for her parents, hugging her mother's legs.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye." Mike Hart said to the band, throwing an arm around his wife.

"I guess it is." Mike Nesmith responded. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome. Thank you for making Eva happy." Maria added.

"You're welcome." Davy said. The four Monkees looked at each other before they started to file into the MonkeeMobile.

"Goodbye!" The Harts yelled as the Monkees shut the doors to the car. Micky, Peter, and Davy waved goodbye as Mike Nesmith started up the car. She purred like she did when they first bought her. The Harts waved goodbye. However, when the car began to move, Davy couldn't dare look back. He knew it was going to hurt too much. He sunk down into his seat, closing his eyes. Little did he know Eva has buried her face into her mother's pant leg to avoid the same pain.

The car ride home was painfully long. Micky and Mike were sitting in the front, while Peter and Davy sat in back. Davy wanted the car ride to be over, but then again he didn't. For it to end meant that he would be faced with his grandfather, who would surely make him go back to England. However, he couldn't stand waiting. It was a nagging pain that had fallen upon him within an hour of their departure from the Hart house. He knew what was at the end of the trip, and with every town sign and miles sign his anxiety grew. He already had to say goodbye to one family, he didn't want to have to say goodbye to another.

Eventually, however, Davy's anxiety peaked as they passed the sign that said, 'MALIBU, CITY POPULATION 11,000.'

"We're home guys!" Mike proclaimed.

"Mike?" Davy asked quietly.

"Yes, Tiny?" Mike asked, pulling up to the first stoplight.

"Can we stop at the pad, so I can see it one last time?" This request sent shivers down the spines of his friends. This confirmed any suspicions they had about Davy's mindset. He believed that he was going back to England for good. Peter took in a deep breath to keep from crying. Micky leaned back, closing his eyes. He felt like he was going to cry too. Mike felt the need to cry as well, but he didn't show it. Granted, Davy had every right to think this. His overprotective grandfather didn't let him stay the first time, what made them think that a rescue from a kidnapping was going to change his mind? This situation demonstrated danger, something Davy's grandfather highly disapproved of. Mike felt his stomach churn.

"Sure thing, Tiny." Mike said, turning left.


	13. Chapter 13-The Girl I Knew Somwhere

Chapter 13-The Girl I Knew Somewhere

"Go on, Tiny." Mike urged Davy to go into the pad. He had given the short Englishman the key, in hopes to replicate the feeling of him returning home. Micky, Peter, and himself all stood by the MonkeeMobile, watching. With a faint smile Davy placed the key in the lock and opened the door. He walked inside, nostalgia overwhelming him.

Everything was as he remembered it. The random antiques scattered across the pad and the obscure signs and paintings that hung from the wall were just as he remembered. He even smiled at Mr. Schneider, who sat at the dining room table with Micky's stuffed monkey. His was surprised to see Micky's drumset sitting in the makeshift alcove. Two empty guitar stands sat next to it, along with a giant, wooden chest that wasn't there a year ago. Curious, Davy walked over to the chest and opened it.

Inside the chest was English memorabilia. Davy pulled out an antique tea set, a Union Jack flag, a small metal wand, and the record, _David Jones._ He was surprised to find, at the bottom of the chest, Mike's signature green wool hat, along with three other wool hats; a blue one, a blue one with buttons, and a green one with buttons. He grabbed the original green hat and stood up, turning towards the front door. "Hey Mike, how come you stopped wearing your hat?"

There was no answer. Davy looked up from the green hat to find his friends nowhere in the pad. Concerned, he walked over to the open door, peering outside to find no one there either. A voice took him by surprise, shooting him five feet in the air. "Hello again, Mr. Davy Jones."

Davy slowly turned around to find ex-archduke Otto standing behind him, a gun pointed at his skull. "Where are my friends?" Davy demanded.

Otto cleared his throat. "Bring 'em in boys." He yelled. From the back alcove Micky and Peter appeared, guns to their heads. Two large, muscular men held the guns that determined their fate. Peter's eyes were red, tear stains brightening his cheeks. Micky's eyes were narrowed, shooting daggers at Otto.

"Where's Mike?" Davy inquired, noticing the lack of Texan anger in the room.

Otto turned around to notice what the Englishman was talking about. However, as to answer his question, a gunshot pierced the room, followed by a scream of pain. Micky and Peter quickly shut their eyes. Micky opened them again, whereas Peter kept his close to prevent him from crying. Within a minute, another bodyguard entered the pad, carrying the Texan in his arms. Davy turned his head away for a moment before asking, "Is he dead?"

The bodyguard shook his head. He gently placed Mike into a nearby lounge chair. To the Monkees' relief Mike groaned, bringing his leg to his chest, clutching a large red stain on his pants. "I'm fine, Davy. He just shot me in the leg, as all."

Davy could hear his comrades sigh in relief. Otto rolled his eyes. "Well, the gunshot surely scared some neighbors, who must be calling the police now, so let's get this over with. Bring _her_ in."

"Her?" Davy asked. His question was answered by another bodyguard entering the pad, holding a familiar young blonde woman by the arm. He threw Queen Bettina of Harmonica onto the floor in front of Otto.

Her dress, made of what seemed like fine purple silk, was torn at the edges and covered in dirt. Her arms, face, and hair were filthy as well. With her hands tied behind her back, she looked up at Davy. "I'm so sorry, Davy."

Davy looked from the Queen to Otto. His face turned red with anger. What had Davy done to him to deserve this? Yes, he _did_ ruined his chances of becoming a dictator, _and_ foiled his plot to kill his niece, but he was doing good, right? Not from Otto's point of view, obviously. Davy tried to calm himself down, but at the sight of Bettina's misery, he broke. After a moment of silence to allow his anger to build, Davy shouted, "You're a monster, you are! What are you to gain from all of this? You've kidnapped a queen! You're already at large for kidnapping me, but surely you'll get the chair for this!"

"Not if I get away before the police come." Otto smirked, continuing to point the gun at Davy. "Now here is how this is going to work. I am going to kill you, then Mr. Nesmith, Mr. Dolenz, and Mr. Tork. Finally I will kill the queen." Otto laughed to himself. "As if she wasn't in enough pain from watching her heroes die. My men and I will escape, and flee to Mexico to take on a new life. Any last words Mr. David Jones?"

Davy gave Otto a death stare before shaking his head.

 _ **BANG**_

Bettina screamed.

"Micky!" The Monkees cried.

Davy was on Otto within minutes. There was a bullet hole in the floor from Otto's gun, and a bullet in Micky's shoulder from the gun of his bodyguard. As Otto scrambled to get up from the floor, Davy pounced on him, determined to make sure he would be arrested. Bettina flopped on top of the gun Otto dropped when Micky shoved him, and Peter rushed to Micky's aid. All of the bodyguards fled the scene in minutes. Davy had the ex-archduke in a full nelson by the time the police had arrived. When she was freed, Bettina ran to Mike's aid while Peter applied pressure to Micky's wound. Both Mike and Micky were losing consciousness due to the loss of blood. The police called an ambulance and arrested Otto, giving Davy time to check up on Mike and Micky.

"Micky, Micky can you hear me?" Davy begged, kneeling next to Peter. The drummer gave Davy a weak smile. He looked extremely tired and in pain, for obvious reasons. "Stay with us Micky, long enough for the EMTs to arrive."

"The four kings of EMI…" Micky sang softly, laughing to himself. He closed his eyes, but Davy softly slapped his face.

"Don't worry about him, Davy. Check on Michael." Peter nearly demanded, taking Davy's hands away from Micky's face. Davy sighed, getting up and running over to Mike.

Davy kneeled down in front of Mike, next to Bettina who was helping apply pressure to Mike's leg wound. "How are you holding up, Mike?" Davy asked, placing a firm hand on Mike's wound, on top of Bettina's.

Mike gave Davy a similar weak smile. "Better than Mick, I can say." He laughed weakly at his own joke that neither the Englishman nor the Queen found amusing. "How's Mick?"

"EMTs haven't arrived yet, and I think he's delirious." Davy admitted.

"Four kings of EMI?" Mike asked, flinching at the added pressure Davy accidentally applied.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"It's a song he wrote about the Beatles." Mike smiled. "Another masterpiece from our mourning phase."

"Right." Davy sighed. "Should have figured as much. Do you know why they shot you?" It sounded like an awkward question to ask Mike at a time like this, but anything to keep him conscious seemed like a good idea.

"I refused to go into the pad. I was going to try and run for it, get the police." Mike replied, taking in deep breaths. "It didn't work out too well."

"I can tell." Davy smirked. Without warning, EMTs burst into the pad, racing straight for the injured Monkees. Before he knew it, Davy was being examined by a paramedic. He watched as Bettina, Mike, and Micky were either lead or rolled out of the pad. Peter stood by Davy as the EMTs cleared the pad.

Davy couldn't move. He was paralyzed by the mess that had become of the pad. Blood stained the lounge chair and floor. The bullet hole that held the bullet that was meant for Davy looked like a bullseye in the floor. The random furniture that was scattered about the pad had been shoved aside in order to save the drummer and the guitarist's lives. Everything happened so quickly, it made his head dizzy.

"Come on, Davy. Let's head to the hospital." Peter said quietly, leading Davy out to the MonkeeMobile, locking the pad on his way out.


	14. Chapter 14- Come On In

Chapter 14- Come On In

 **Author's Note: I do not own the Monkees or their songs.**

Peter was doing all he could to prevent himself from breaking down. Someone had to stay strong for Davy. They were at the hospital, in the waiting room. Davy was sobbing into his hands now, after fifteen minutes of tension and the whispers of nurses. Peter had an arm around his British friend, his other hand rubbing Davy's arm. He knew he couldn't break down now. His time would come when it would. However, Peter had a gut feeling that his turn wouldn't come for quite a while. His gut was right.

"David! Thank goodness you're alive!" Ben Jones cried, running into the waiting room. Davy looked up from his hands, his face instantly turning red. As if by instinct, Davy stood up and hugged his grandfather. Mr. Jones embraced the hug. "I was beginning to think you were dead! These American police do nothing for the good of a case, do they?"

Davy shook his head, his face buried in his grandfather's shoulder. Peter stood up and walked over to where the two were. His face burned with nerves and embarrassment for the reunion he was about to break. "Uh, Mr. Jones?"

Mr. Jones looked up from his hug. Davy turned around to look at Peter as well. Peter felt sick from guilt at his friend's condition. "Mr. Jones, Michael and I had gone out to find Davy and Micky ourselves. We quit our jobs just so we had all the time in the world to save them. We found them in a little house in Nevada, where they were given the medical attention they needed. If Micky never chased the car in the first place, Davy might not even be here."

Davy looked at his grandfather. "He's right, you know. He and Mike brought me back. Micky saved my life." He hoped the message was getting through to the old man without having to state it directly.

To Davy and Peter's disappointment, the old man shook his head. "I can't Davy."

Peter grabbed his small friend before he was able to punch his grandfather. Anger turned Davy's face a bright crimson and his fists a mosaic of red and white. Thankfully, a nurse came to save the conflict from progressing. "David Jones and Peter Tork?"

"That's us." Peter answered, pulling Davy farther away from his grandfather.

"Are you the family of Mr. George Dolenz and Robert Nesmith?"

"That's Micky Dolenz and Mike Nesmith to you," Davy stated coldly. "And yes, we are."

"Right this way then." The nurse said, skeptical. Davy followed the nurse, but then stopped when he noticed Peter wasn't following.

"Peter?"

"I'll be there in a minute. Go on." Peter said, trying to fish something out of his pocket. Davy shrugged, leaving with the nurse. After finding a scrap piece of paper, Peter walked over to the only payphone in the room and then took some change from his pocket. Peter waited as the phone rang. "Maria? Hello, this is Peter Tork... Good, we've made it back to Malibu in one piece… kind of. Let's just say I'm calling from a hospital payphone. I'd like you to speak with Davy's grandfather, Mr. Jones. He wants to take Davy back to England… Thank you." Peter took the phone down from his ear. "Mr. Jones, I have someone on the line that wants to speak to you."

Mr. Jones took the phone from the bassist and held it to his ear. "Hello?"

Peter walked into room 674 to find Davy sitting next to Mike's bed. Mike had come out of surgery first, since his injury wasn't as major as Micky's. The unconscious Texan had the apparition of a sleeping man, but the pale skin and cast on his right leg deduced otherwise. Davy had pulled up a chair and had his elbows on the bed, his hands holding his head up. Peter walked over to Davy's side, pulling up another chair.

Davy didn't look up from his position. His voice was hoarse, tears threatening to prevent him from speaking. "Peter… I don't wanna go."

"I know." Peter said quietly, placing a hand on his back. "I don't want you to go either. I know Micky and Mike don't want that as well. I, uh, well," Peter didn't know how to continue. "I'll be right back." Peter stood up, quickly leaving the room without a sound. He raced into the waiting room and towards the front doors, surprised to see Mr. Jones still on the payphone with Maria. It was as if he was in a heated discussion with the woman on the other end. Peter dismissed the conversation and ran out the doors to the MonkeeMobile, where his and Mike's guitars were still in the back. He grabbed both of the instruments and reentered the hospital. He quietly reentered the room that was occupied by his friends.

Davy looked up from his spot. He cocked an eyebrow at the cases Peter brought in. Peter rewarded Davy's curiosity with a warm smile. "I figured Mike might want his Blondie when he wakes up."

Davy shrugged, understanding. He went back to looking at the inert Texan, sulking. Peter pulled up another chair and took Mike's Blondie from her case. Davy looked up when he heard Peter tuning the beauty.

"W-what are you doing?" Davy stammered. "Mike's gonna kill you!"

"Not if he doesn't know about it." Peter claimed in a confident tone. He knew Mike was going to kill him. Mike found out about everything. Honestly, he felt his stomach do somersaults as he finished tuning the instrument. "I was writing this song while Mike and I were looking for you. He doesn't know about it though. I found the time to write in either when everyone was sleeping or when I was driving: I'd pull the car over to write things down."

Davy sat up straight, interested. Peter took that as a sign to proceed with the song. Taking a deep breath, Peter began to sing, 'Come on In.' Davy had never heard Peter sing much besides 'Your Auntie Grizelda' back before he had gone to England, so this was a surprise to him.

 _"I guess we'll never know just what went wrong, you know it's been a whole year has passed us by and gone. But we're back together now where we belong. So, baby, come on in. Come on in, I heard your footstep on the stair. Come on in, I'd know it anywhere."_

Davy felt his heart leap into his throat. It was sweet to know that Peter had written a song describing the circumstances, but it hurt to know how much that song would hurt the others, as well as himself. It was a constant reminder that Davy had returned for one solid adventure before disappearing again. When would be the next time Davy would see them? Would they be in their sixties, old and grey, not even recognizing one another? He considered himself lucky to return so soon after the airport incident, but he couldn't count on fate to let him see his friends again.

 _"Your old chair in the corner is justa sitting there waiting. It's been a long time anticipating. What a long time it's been. So, baby, come on in."_

Davy took a deep breath. Peter finished the song and placed Mike's guitar back in it's case. Davy gave his bandmate a small smile. "That was beautiful, Pete."

Peter could see tears threatening to run from his eyes. However, before Peter could do anything to comfort the small Englishman, a soft knock broke the vibrations that Peter set. Mr. Jones softly opened the door. Frowning, he asked to speak to Davy in the waiting room. Reluctantly, Davy stood and followed his grandfather out.

Peter sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"As heartfelt as that was, Pete, I'm still gonna kill ya' for that." A familiar Texan voice threatened softly.


	15. Chapter 15- You Told Me

Chapter 15- You Told Me

 **Author's Note: Thank you all for reading my story and following the Monkees this far into the story! I'm sad to say that we've reached the end of this adventure, but there will be more (Whether they will be in this reality or not, I cannot say.) So thank you all! Here's Chapter 15! By the way, I do not own the Monkees, the characters from the show, or their goofy, amazing music.**

Davy silently followed his grandfather to the waiting room. He could feel his heart threatening to break out of his chest. ' _I don't want to go, I don't want to go.'_ He thought to himself as they continued through the hospital. In his mind he ran through all the possible scenarios that could happen within the short time he intended to spend with his grandfather.

" _Grandfather, I don't plan to go back to England."_

" _Davy, my boy, you need to. I am your guardian and I need to look after you. It's far too dangerous here in America for you to stay."_

" _But Grandfather, I'm safe with the guys. They saved my life! If Micky had not jumped onto the back of that car, I would be lying dead in a far off country at the foot of a queen, who would probably have a bullet in her head too! Micky, Peter, and Mike sacrificed themselves to save me!"_

" _That doesn't matter. You're safer with me in England."_

" _I refuse to go."_

Davy imagined his grandfather smacking him for the rebellious argument. Davy's faced burned. There was no way he wanted to go to England and leave his brothers behind. He couldn't very well let his grandfather down either. Davy took a deep breath as he and his grandfather stepped out into the waiting room. His grandfather stopped himself and turned to face his grandson. "Davy," he took in a deep breath. "I've purchased two tickets for England. They leave tomorrow morning at nine."

"Grandfather I-"

"I'd also like you to meet my… well… the owner of the second plane ticket." Mr. Jones cut the boy off, turning to see a slightly younger, but still older, woman walk up to them. She had short, red hair and wore a floral dress, complimented with a large, pink hat. She slid up to Mr. Jones, throwing an arm around him and giving Davy a large smile.

"Good afternoon, Davy! Name's Cecilia Cabot. You're grandfather's a wonderful man, you're so lucky to have him as a grandfather." The lady beamed, extending an arm to the boy.

Davy was at a lost for words. Awkwardly he shook the woman's hand. The situation was not going as he was expecting it to. His mouth hung slightly open as his grandfather explained, "I met her the night you were kidnapped. She was at my side, comforting me. She reassured me that you were going to be alright. I guess she was right." Mr. Jones smiled at the little woman, wrapping an arm around her as well. Davy still didn't know how to take on this information. "Plus the women you met put up a pretty good fight. Especially the little one."

"Eva?"

"Was that her name?"

"Does that mean…" Davy croaked, his mind racing from one idea to the next.

"Yes, my boy. I give you my consent to stay in America." Mr. Jones smiled.

Davy raced in for a hug. Cecelia pulled away to give them the moment. After a moment had passed, Davy released himself, straightening himself out. "Right…" Davy said, relieved that that was settled. "So I guess this is goodbye?"

"I'd be grateful if you'd see Cecilia and I out." Mr. Jones admitted.

"I can do that. I'll meet you at the airport at eight then?"

"Eight o'clock." Mr. Jones smiled. "I pray your friends are all right. Have a good night Davy."

"Good night, Grandfather. Please, be careful."

"Nothing ever happens in England." Mr. Jones laughed. He and Cecilia turned around, leaving the waiting room. Davy gave one last shiver at the very idea before turning towards the patient's wing, biting his lip, preparing his presentation.

Needless to say, Mike and Peter were discussing how they were going to break the news to Micky. They both knew he'd be devastated. Tears threatened Peter's eyes and Mike continuously shifted to ease the pain his leg gave him.

"How soon is he going to leave, though?" Peter croaked.

"Hopefully not until Micky wakes up… let alone when he gets out of surgery." Mike readjusted himself again. "What's taking them so long? How long does it take to remove one measly bullet?"

"You don't think-" Peter tried to say, taking in a big breath of air to calm himself down. The thought was too terrifying.

There was a knock at the door, and Davy entered. He was biting his lip. That could not have been good. He looked down at his feet, avoiding his friends' gazes.

"What'd he say?" Mike demanded.

Davy looked up at his roommate with wide eyes. His lip was hurting. He couldn't hold it any longer. A large smile spread across the Englishman's face and he laughed. Mike and Peter's eyes widened. "I'm going to need somewhere to stay. He didn't buy me a ticket."

"WHAT?" Peter and Mike asked. Peter stood up and asked, "So you're staying?"

"Yes, Peter. I'm staying." Davy said, the big smile starting to hurt. It wouldn't go away. Peter hugged the short Englishman, laughing. Davy could hear Mike laughing too.

"Hey guys?" Peter asked after the excitement had died down. "Can you promise me something?"

"Anything, Peter." Davy replied.

"Promise me, that if something happens, and I'm not a part of the band anymore, that you three will continue to make music. Be the Monkees. I don't want to be the reason you guys give up your dreams. I now know what that feels like, and it's terrible."

"We promise, Peter." Mike answered, giving the blonde a wan smile. "I don't know what would make you think that something will happen to us, but sure. We promise to keep the Monkees alive if you're gone."

"Thank you, guys."

After the impact died down and the three boys settled for their company, they waited patiently for Micky's arrival. Impatiently Mike continued to mention how long they had been there, but the other two tried to ignore it. They couldn't dare think of why it took them so long to fix Micky.

It was nearly 10pm before the boys were finally relieved of their worries. Two nurses rolled the unconscious drummer into the room, sliding him into a space next to Mike's bed. Bettina and a doctor came in behind them. Bettina was now wearing an innocent white gown, a bandage around her forearm and head. Her blonde hair was tied neatly in a high ponytail. Davy couldn't register what the doctor was saying.

"Your friend is one lucky-"

"Shh." Mike said, holding up a finger. "One moment, Doc. Davy?"

"Davy?" Peter asked, walking over to where Bettina and Davy were, staring into each other's eyes. Peter waved his hand in front of Davy's face. His expression remained love-struck. "Uh oh… Mike!"

"He's in love, isn't he?"

"Yep."

"At least they're the same age this time around."

"May I?" The doctor interrupted.

Peter and Mike turned their attention to the doctor, who was starting to get annoyed. "Right. Thanks. So you're friend's lucky to be alive. We were having some technical malfunctions, but finally were able to get the bullet out without killing him."

"But he was shot in the shoulder!" Mike fumed.

"It hit a major artery. He lost a lot of blood, but with rest and medical attention, he should recover. What is his profession?"

"Drummer." Mike answered, slightly annoyed.

"Well, I can tell you he won't be one for a while."

"But he will recover, right?" Peter asked, waving a hand in front of Davy's face again.

"Yes he will. Now Mr. Nesmith, how are you feeling?" The doctor addressed Mike's condition while the nurses finished hooking Micky up to an IV and making sure everything was in order. Peter paused his pursuit to break Bettina and Davy's stare to listen to the doctor and Mike, but when the doctor left, so did Bettina and Davy's staring contest.

"I love you." Davy said, love-struck.

"I love you too, Davy." Bettina replied.

"And I love the Texas Prairie Chicken, NEXT!" Mike yelled. The nurses and doctor 'shushed' him before they left.

"I better get back to my room. I came by to thank you guys." Bettina said, now addressing all three boys. "If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be dead. Hopefully now my uncle won't escape and we'll be safe."

"Well, with all of the new charges, I don't think he'll be staying long." Mike deadpanned.

"Mike!" Peter complained. "Don't say things like that." He pouted.

"What? He deserves it. He almost killed us, Peter!"

"But still, I don't like to think about that."

Davy could only laugh. "Oh, how I've missed you guys." Davy walked over to Peter, then turning back to Bettina. "So what are your plans once you're released from here?"

"My country needs me. The police have informed my subjects of my condition and what has happened. There is no doubt you four will be viewed as national heroes." Bettina smiled at the three Monkees. "I've already told the hospital I will pay for your bills. It's the least I could do."

Mike and Peter starred on, dumbstruck. Davy, however, smiled. "Thank you. We'll need it. Get some rest."

Bettina began to leave, but was stopped by two police officers. The first one, who was as skinny as Mike and had spiky brown hair, addressed the group. "Are you all the group from 1334 Beachwood Drive?"

"We are." Davy said.

The second police officer, who was slightly bigger than his comrade, but not by much, who had black, floppy hair, spoke up. "We've come to you with some information. The ex-archduke of Harmonica will be imprisoned for life in one of the country's top facilities. As for his accomplices, Harmonica is willing to take care of Sigmon Hamill's case. As for Dr. Marcovich…"

"He was found dead in a box car that stopped in Clarksville, Tennessee." The first officer finished. "The bodyguards that the Queen reported are all M.I.A. The ex-archduke will not reveal any information as to where he got them to provide us with any good lead."

"Don't worry about them." Davy said. "They're only hired thugs. You've got the criminals who count."

Bettina nodded. "Will there be anything else, boys?"

"Yes," the second policeman replied. "We would like to question you four men when it is convenient."

"I'm up for it." Davy said.

"I'm willing." Peter added.

"Alright then, if you two will step outside with us, this will only take a couple of minutes." The first policeman said, holding the door open. Peter and Davy walked out with the two Monkees, leaving Bettina and Mike alone with an unconscious Micky.

"Thank you, Bettina." Mike said softly, as to not disturb the peace.

"For what? It should be I thanking you, Michael." Bettina replied, sitting at the foot of Mike's bed.

"Well, I guess I'm thanking you for being the reason Davy's come home." Mike said awkwardly.

"Oh, well then, you're welcome." Bettina smiled. "You and Micky should get some rest, though." Bettina stood up and kissed Mike on the forehead. "Good night Michael."

"Good night, your majesty." Mike responded, closing his eyes, enjoying the peace while he could. He knew that eventually there would be no way he could relax once Micky woke up, and Davy and Peter would sadly enforce Micky's mischief. Mike drifted into the nice darkness that everyone knew as sleep.


	16. Epilogue: She Makes Me Laugh

_**The Greek Theater in Los Angeles, CA.**_

 _ **September 7, 1986**_

Eva Hart-Boyce, age 25, took in a deep breath as she watched her husband walk up to the bodyguard who stood in the way of Eva's only entrance. She tried to get into the concert legally, but all V.I.P. tickets were sold out. She saw this as her one and only opportunity. She was too grateful to have a husband like John.

John began talking to the bodyguard, his charisma taking effect. As soon as his arm wrapped itself around the bigger man's shoulders, he started to maneuver the man away from the door, Eva quickly slipping inside.

Once inside, Eva smoothed out her business skirt and tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear. Taking another deep breath, she strolled down the hall, holding the earpiece she stole from work in her ear, hoping to pass off as an employee. She felt like her heart was going to explode. This was the first risky thing she ever did. Her eyes were constantly darting around. She held on tightly to the clipboard in her hand, which held a giant manila envelope. Eva would look down to make sure the envelope was there, then look around at where she was, hoping she wouldn't get caught, as well as look for the dressing rooms.

Eva quickly found herself in the middle of four doors. To her left two doors proclaimed, 'NESMITH' and 'TORK.' The two on the right had 'DOLENZ' and 'JONES' written on them. She took in another deep breath. She could hear the faint vibrations of 'I'll Love You Forever' being performed on stage, telling her that only one of the dressing rooms must be occupied. She turned to the door that said 'NESMITH,' hesitating before knocking on the door.

"Mr. Nesmith?" She said loudly, her nerves obvious in her voice.

"Yes?" A voice replied. Eva's heart jumped into her throat at the response. She couldn't believe she actually got a response. When the voice asked, "Yes?" again, she took a step back, speechless. She wanted to say, ' _This is Eva Hart,'_ but she suddenly didn't have the voice to say anything.

She jumped backwards when the door suddenly opened, revealing the older Michael Nesmith. Mike now had a dark beard and short, dark hair. He wore a white suit with a light blue tie. Eva tried to ignore how much bigger Mike was after nineteen years. He cocked an eyebrow at the young girl. Eva stared at him a moment before quickly grabbing the manila envelope and handing it over. "This is for you and the band, sir." She said quickly, almost in tears. This did not go unnoticed by the Monkee.

Mike took the envelope, looking at it curiously. He then turned his attention to the nervous girl that stood before him. "What's the matter, miss?"

The girl looked down at her clipboard, her face bright red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, sir." She quickly ran off, leaving Mike alone in the hall with the envelope.

Curious, he turned it over and opened it. Inside of the envelope was an abundance of small, white envelopes, addressed either to the Monkees, or Davy Jones. He took an envelope labeled for the Monkees and studied the envelope. It had no return address and no stamp. All it had was the Monkees title and their old address, 1334 Beachwood Drive. Mike opened the letter and read the contents.

 _October 17, 1971_

 _Dear Davy, Micky, Peter, and Mike,_

 _I miss you guys so much. You four are big news at school. Everyone is going nuts about you. I thought that is was going to be great, but I hate it. I told my friends that you came to my house when I was little, but none of them believed me. They thought I was only saying that because I wanted attention. They're no longer my friends. I only have one friend now. His name is John Boyce. He believes me. He thinks I'm a hero. Can you help me get my friends back? Come to my school and say hi or something? Or even write me a letter. I haven't heard from you guys in ages. I wish I could talk to you guys again. I miss you._

 _And another thing, My mommy had another baby the other day. Her name is Elizabeth. I'm excited to have a little sister, but David isn't as much. Granted, he's three, but still. I wish you guys could come by and meet him and my new sister. I congratulate you guys. You're stars. Good luck in the future._

 _Love,_

 _Eva_

That's when Mike put two and two together. He threw the letter, along with the manilla envelope, onto his couch and darted into the hall. "Eva? Eva?" He called out. He rushed down the hall that he remembered the girl running down till he found her, curled up in a corner by another hall. "Eva?"

The blonde woman looked up at the Monkee, her face stained with tears. "Mike?" She croaked.

"Come here, Eva." Mike said, offering a hand to help her up. Reluctantly she took the offer, rising to her feet. Mike threw an arm around her, leading her down the hall and into his dressing room. He lead her to the couch and shut the door. "I can't believe it's you. You're so grown-up."

Eva blushed at Mike's comment. "I can't believe it's you either." She said softly.

Mike pulled up a chair and sat across from the grown-up heroine. "What brings you to California?"

"I live here."

"Do you?"

"I do. I live with my husband, John, at 1334 Beachwood Drive."

"The irony." Mike laughed. "I read one of your letters. I'm sorry to hear." He gestured the loose letter. Eva picked it up, scanning it while Mike continued, "But you have a brother named David?"

"We call him Davy." Eva gave a shy laugh, her face glowing with embarrassment.

"I wonder why..." Mike said sarcastically.

"He's my only brother. I have two other sisters. They're Elizabeth and Saundra. Davy was born shortly after you guys left. The letter telling you about his birth is in there somewhere. I wrote to you guys about everything. Everything from my first day on the honor roll to my wedding. Even after we moved into your old house I continued to write to you guys, knowing you might never get the letters. I kind of felt like I was writing to an imaginary friend. It wasn't till I was thirteen that I realized that you weren't getting my letters. I forgot the stamp and return address. It felt silly to send seven years worth of letters at once, so I saved them. When I heard about the Monkees coming to Los Angeles, I couldn't resist. John knew how much you guys meant to me, so he helped me get in."

"Same John as in the letter?" Mike asked curiously.

"Same John." Eva said. "He's probably still distracting the bodyguard."

"He's what?"

"All the tickets were sold out." Eva's face was now crimson with embarrassment.

"So you snuck in?"

"A bit."

Mike scratched his beard, contemplating Eva's course of action. However, he was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Five minutes, Mr. Nesmith."

"Okay." Mike said aloud. "Right then," he said quieter so anyone outside the door couldn't hear. "You stay here while I go satisfy the masses. I'll be back with the other three." Mike stood up, quickly grooming himself before heading towards the door.

"Mike, wait!" Eva said, jumping up.

"What?"

"Thank you for remembering me." Eva said shyly.

An awkward smile spread across Mike's face. "How you could have known I needed to remember is beyond me, but you're welcome." With that, Mike departed the room to go out and perform with Peter, Davy, and Micky.

Eva sighed, sitting down onto the couch once more, re-reading the letter Mike had opened, a bright smile across her face. She couldn't believe that she managed to get this far. She was glad, though. She looked heavenward with a smile on her face. "I did it, Mom. Just like you said I would." She slid a hand to the chain around her neck, pulling out a locket. Opening it, she found a picture of her and her mother. It was the last thing Eva had from her mother before she passed away. "Thank you Mom." Eva whispered.

 _ **The End**_

 _ **Author's Note: Thank you everyone for joining the Monkees on this adventure! Thank you to everyone who's read this story. Shout out to Lisa Boon and SixtiesGirl. This story probably wouldn't exist if it wasn't for the two of you! I hope you all have a great day, and stay groovy!**_


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